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LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 

MRS.   THOMAS  A.    DRISCOLL 


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A^y 

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OLD   COURT   COSTUME 


JiNRiKiSHA  Days  in  Japan 


BY 

ELIZA  RUHAMAH  SCIDMORE 


"  Waga  kuni  no  Yamato  shima  ne  ni  idzuru  hi  wa ; 
Morokoshi  hito  mo,  awoga  zarameya." 

"  In  the  ancient  Yamato  island,  my  native  land,  the  sun  rises; 
Must  not  even  the  Western  foreigner  reverence?" 

Ancitnt  Jafanese  Foent. 

"  I  cannot  cease  from  praising  these  Japanese.    They 
are  truly  the  delight  of  my  heart." 

St.  Franos  Xavier. 


REVISED    EDITION 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

HARPER    &     BROTHERS     PUBLISHERS 

Z902 


^% 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 

All  rights  reserved. 


PREFACE 


This  book  has  only  attempted  to  present  some 
of  the  phases  of  the  new  Japan  as  they  appeared 
to  one  who  was  both  a  tourist  and  a  foreign  resi- 
dent in  that  country.  No  one  person  can  see  it  all, 
nor  comprehend  it,  as  the  jinrikisha  speeds  through 
city  streets  and  over  country  roads,  nor  do  any  two 
people  enjoy  just  the  same  experiences,  see  things 
in  the  same  light,  or  draw  the  same  conclusions  as 
to  this  remarkable  people.  Japan  is  so  inexhaust- 
ible and  so  full  of  surprises  that  to  the  last  day  of 
his  stay  the  tourist  and  the  resident  alike  are  con- 
fronted by  some  novelty  that  is  yet  wholly  common 
and  usual  in  the  life  of  the  Japanese. 

The  scientists,  scholars,  and  specialists,  the  poetic 
and  the  political  writers,  who  have  written  so  fully 
of  Japan,  have  omitted  many  little  things  which 
leave  the  pleasantest  impressions  on  lighter  minds. 
Each  decade  presents  a  new  Japan,  as  the  wonder- 
ful empire  approaches  nearer  to  modern  and  Eu- 
ropean standards  in  living,  and,  in  becoming  one  of 
the  eight  great  civilized  world-powers,  Japan  has 
put  aside  much  of  its  mediaeval  and  Oriental  pict- 
uresqueness. 


Preface 

Bewildered  by  its  novelty  and  strangeness,  too 
many  tourists  come  and  go  with  little  knowledge 
of  the  Japan  of  the  Japanese,  and,  beholding  only 
the  modernized  seaports  and  the  capital,  miss  many 
unique  and  distinctly  national  sights  and  experi- 
ences that  lie  close  at  hand.  The  book  will  have 
attained  its  object  if  it  helps  the  tourist  to  see  bet- 
ter the  Japan  that  is  unchanging,  and  if  it  gives 
the  stay-at-home  reader  a  greater  interest  in  those 
fascinating  people  and  their  lovely  home. 

Unfortunately,  it  is  impossible,  in  acknowledging 
the  kindness  of  the  many  Japanese  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances, who  secured  me  so  much  enjoyment 
and  so  many  delightful  experiences,  to  begin  to 
give  the  long  list  of  their  names.  Each  foreign 
visitor  must  equally  feel  himself  indebted  to  the 
whole  race  for  being  Japanese,  and,  therefore,  the 
most  interesting  population  in  the  world,  and  his 
obligation  is  to  the  whole  people  as  much  as  to 
particular  individuals. 

Since  the  first  edition  of  this  book  was  published, 
the  treaties  have  been  revised,  extra-territoriality 
and  the  passport  system  have  been  abolished,  and 
a  protective  tariff  adopted  ;  the  railway  has  been 
extended  to  Nikko,  to  Nara,  from  end  to  end,  and 
twice  across,  the  main  island  ;  foreign  hotels  have 
multiplied  in  seaports  and  mountain  resorts;  the 
guide-book  has  been  modernized,  made  more  com- 
panionable and  interesting,  and  a  vast  literature 
has  been  added  to  the  subject — Japan.  The  fall  in 
the  price  of  silver,  the  adoption  of  the  gold  stand- 


Preface 

ard,  and  the  increasing  army  of  tourists  have  more 
than  doubled  the  cost  of  Hving  and  of  all  the  prod- 
ucts of  art  industry.  Japan  has  twice  sent  victori- 
ous military  expeditions  to  the  mainland,  and  in 
the  relief  of  the  legations  and  the  occupation  of 
Peking  has  proved  her  soldiers  first  in  valor,  dis- 
cipline, equipment,  and  in  humanity  to  the  con- 
quered, and  there  was  abundantly  displayed  that 
high  passion  of  patriotism  which  the  Japanese  pos- 
sess in  greater  degree  than  any  other  people. 

Japan,  six  times  revisited,  is  as  full  of  charm  and 
novelty  as  when  I  first  went  ashore  from  the  wreck 
of  the  Tokio. 

E.  R.  S. 

Washington,  D.  C,  March,  i8go. 
"  ••        March,  1902. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP.  PAGB 

I.  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC  AND  YOKOHAMA  ...    I 

II.  YOKOHAMA lO 

III.    YOKOHAMA— CONTINUED 20 

IV.  THE  ENVIRONS  OF  YOKOHAMA 28 

V.    KAMAKURA   AND    ENOSHIMA 38 

VI.    TOKIO 43 

VII.  TOKIO— CONTINUED 53 

VIII.   TOKIO   FLOWER  FESTIVALS 65 

IX.  JAPANESE  HOSPITALITIES 86 

X.   THE  JAPANESE  THEATRE 96 

XI.  THE   IMPERIAL    FAMILY Ill 

XII.  TOKIO   PALACES  AND   COURT I25 

XIII.  THE  SUBURBS  OF  TOKIO I34 

XIV.  A  TRIP  TO  NIKKO I40 

XV.   NIKKO 147 

XVI.  CHIUZENJI   AND  YUMOTO 162 

XVII.   THE  ASCENT  OF   FUJIYAMA .   175 

XVIII.   THE  DESCENT  OF   FUJIYAMA 183 

XIX.   THE   TOKAIDO — I 1 89 

XX.  THE  TOKAIDO — II I97 

XXI.  NAGOYA 206 

XXII.    LAKE  BIWA  AND   KIOTO 2l6 

XXIII.  KIOTO  TEMPLES 226 

XXIV.  THE  MONTO  TEMPLES  AND  THE  DAIMONJI      ,   236 
XXV.   THE   PALACES  AND   CASTLE 244 

XXVI.   KIOTO   SILK   INDUSTRY 255 

XXVII.  EMBROIDERIES  AND  CURIOS 267 

vii 


Contents 


CHAP.  PAGE 

XXVIII.   POTTERIES   AND   PAPER  WARES 277 

XXIX.   GOLDEN   DAYS 285 

XXX.   SENK£   and   the   MERCHANTS'  DINNER      .      .   296 

XXXI.   THROUGH    UJI   TO   NARA 304 

XXXII.   NARA 320 

XXXIII.   OSAKA        .      .• 331 

■   XXXIV.   KOBE   AND   ARIMA 340 

XXXV.   THE  TEA   TRADE  .      .      .      , 350 

XXXVI.   THE   INLAND   SEA   AND   NAGASAKI      ....   358 

XXXVII.   IN   THE   END 368 

INDEX 377 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGB 

OLD  COURT  COSTUME Frontispiece 

FUJIYAMA 5 

JAPANESE    CHILDREN \^ 

AT    KAWAWA 30 

THE  semi's  cage 55 

POETS   BENEATH   THE   PLUM-TREES 67 

A   UY^NO   TEA-HOUSE 71 

IRIS   GARDENS   AT   HORI    KIRI 75 

AT   KAMEIDO 79 

IN    DANGO-ZAKA    STREET 82 

TEA   BLOSSOMS 83 

CHOPSTICKS— FIGS.   I    AND   2 88 

CHOPSTICKS— FIG.  3 89 

THE   NESANS   AT   THE   HOISHIGAOKA 93 

MATSUDA,   THE   MASTER   OF  CHA   NO   YU 94 

DANJIRO,  THE  GREAT   ACTOR I07 

IN   THE  PALACE  GARDENS 115 

IN   THE   PALACE  GARDENS 117 

IN   THE   PALACE  GARDENS 121 

PLAN   OF   EMPEROR'S  PRIVATE  APARt'mENTS  .      .      .      .    I27 

IMPERIAL  SAK^-CUP I29 

INTERIOR   OF  THE   lYEMITSU   TEMPLE 1 51 

GATE-WAY   OF  THE  lYEYASU   TEMPLE 155 

FARM   LABORERS   AND   PACK-HORSE 163 

PUBLIC   BATH-HOUSE  AT   YUMOTO I7» 


Illustrations 

PAGE 

THE  SHOJO 213 

THE  GREAT   PINE-TREE  AT   KARASAKI 219 

THE  true-lover's  SHRINE  AT   KIOMIDZU       .      .      .      .231 

THE  THRONE  OF    1868 248 

KABE   HABUTAI 262 

CHIRIMEN 263 

EBISU   CHIRIMEN 264 

KINU   CHIRIMEN 265 

FUKUSA 270 

MANJI 272 

MITSU  T0M0y£ 273 

IN  nammikawa's  work-room 288 

PICKING  TEA 305 

IN  THE  KASUGA   TEMPLE  GROUNDS 317 

PRIESTESSES    AT    NARA 324 

FARM    LABORERS 347 


JINRIKISHA  DAYS  IN  JAPAN 


CHAPTER   I 
THE   NORTH   PACIFIC   AND  YOKOHAMA 

All  the  Orient  is  a  surprise  to  the  Occidental.  Every- 
thing is  strange,  with  a  certain  unreality  that  makes  one 
doubt  half  his  sensations.  To  appreciate  Japan  one 
should  come  to  it  from  the  main-land  of  Asia.  From 
Suez  to  Nagasaki  the  Asiatic  sits  dumb  and  contented 
in  his  dirt,  rags,  ignorance,  and  wretchedness.  After 
the  muddy  rivers,  dreary  flats,  and  brown  hills  of  China, 
after  the  desolate  shores  of  Korea,  with  their  unlovely 
and  unwashed  peoples,  Japan  is  a  dream  of  Paradise, 
beautiful  from  the  first  green  island  off  the  coast  to  the 
last  picturesque  hill-top.  The  houses  seem  toys,  their 
inhabitants  dolls,  whose  manner  of  life  is  clean,  pretty, 
artistic,  and  distinctive. 

There  is  a  greater  difference  between  the  people  of 
these  idyllic  islands  and  of  the  two  countries  to  west- 
ward, than  between  the  physical  characteristics  of  the 
three  kingdoms ;  and  one  recognizes  the  Japanese  as 
the  fine  flower  of  the  Orient,  the  most  polite,  refined, 
and  aesthetic  of  races,  happy,  light-hearted,  friendly,  and 
attractive. 

The  bold  and  irregular  coast  is  rich  in  color,  the  per- 
ennial green  of  the  hill-side  is  deep  and  soft,  and  the 
perfect  cone  of  Fujiyama  against  the  sky  completes  the 
landscape,  grown  so  familiar  on  fan,  lantern,  box,  and 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

plate.  Every-day  life  looks  too  theatrical,  too  full  of 
artistic  and  decorative  effects,  to  be  actual  and  serious, 
and  streets  and  shops  seem  set  with  deliberately  studied 
scenes  and  carefully  posed  groups.  Half  consciously 
the  spectator  waits  for  the  bell  to  ring  and  the  curtain 
to  drop. 

The  voyage  across  the  North  Pacific  is  lonely  and 
rtionotonous.  Between  San  Francisco  and  Yokohama 
hardly  a  passing  sail  is  seen.  When  the  Pacific  Mail 
Steamship  Company  established  the  China  line  their 
steamers  sailed  on  prescribed  routes,  and  outward  and 
homeward-bound  ships  met  regularly  in  mid -ocean. 
Now,  when  not  obliged  to  touch  at  Honolulu,  the  cap- 
tains choose  their  route  for  each  voyage,  either  sailing 
straight  across  from  San  Francisco,  in  37°  47'',  to  Yoko- 
hama, in  35°  26'  N.,  or,  following  one  of  the  great  cir- 
cles farther  north,  thus  lessen  time  and  distance.  On 
these  northern  meridians  the  weather  is  often  cold, 
threatening,  or  stormy,  and  the  sea  rough;  but  the  stead- 
iness of  the  winds  favors  this  course,  and  persuades  the 
ship's  officers  to  shorten  the  long  course  and  more  cer- 
tainly reach  Japan  on  schedule  time.  Dwellers  in  hot 
climates  dislike  the  sudden  transition  to  cooler  waters, 
and  some  voyagers  enjoy  it.  Fortunately,  icebergs  can- 
not float  down  the  shallow  reaches  of  Bering  Strait, 
but  fierce  winds  blow  through  the  gaps  and  passes  in 
the  Aleutian  Islands. 

Canadian  Pacific  steamers,  starting  on  the  49th  par- 
allel, often  pass  near  the  shores  of  Attn,  the  last  little 
fragment  of  earth  swinging  at  the  end  of  the  great  Aleu- 
tian chain.  The  shelter  which  those  capable  navigators, 
Mrs.  Leeks  and  Mrs.  Aleshine,  had  the  luck  to  find  in 
their  memorable  journey,  mariners  declare  to  be  Mid- 
way Island,  a  circular  dot  of  land  in  the  great  waste, 
with  a  long,  narrow,  outlying  sand-bar,  where  schooners 
have  been  wrecked,  and  castaways  rescued  after  months 


The  North  Pacific  and  Yokohama 

of  imprisonment.  The  steamer's  course  from  San  Fran- 
cisco to  Yokohama  varies  from  4500  to  5500  miles,  and 
the  journey  takes  from  twelve  to  eighteen  days.  From 
Vancouver  to  Yokohama  it  is  but  eleven  days. 

When  the  ship's  course  turns  perceptibly  southward 
the  mild  weather  of  the  Japan  Stream  is  felt.  In  winter 
the  first  sign  of  land  is  a  distant  silver  dot  on  the  hori- 
zon, which  in  summer  turns  to  blue  or  violet,  and  grad 
ually  enlarges  into  the  tapering  cone  of  Fuji,  sloping  up- 
ward in  faultless  lines  from  the  water's  edge.  One  may 
approach  land  many  times  and  never  see  Fuji,  and  dur- 
ing my  first  six  months  in  Japan  the  matchless  mountain 
refused  to  show  herself  from  any  point  of  view.  Cape 
King,  terminating  the  long  peninsula  that  shelters  Yeddo 
Bay,  shows  first  a  line  of  purple  cliffs,  and  then  a  front 
of  terraced  hills,  green  with  rice  and  wheat,  or  golden 
with  grain  or  stubble.  Fleets  of  square-sailed  fishing- 
boats  drift  by,  their  crews,  in  the  loose,  flapping  gowns 
and  universal  blue  cotton  head-towels  of  the  Japanese 
coolies,  easily  working  the  broad  oar  at  the  stern.  At 
night  Cape  King's  welcome  beacon  is  succeeded  by  Ka- 
nonsaki's  lantern  across  the  Bay,  Sagami's  bright  light, 
then  the  myriad  flashes  of  the  Yokosuka  navy-yard,  and 
last  the  red  ball  of  the  light-ship,  marking  the  edge  of 
the  shoal  a  mile  outside  the  Bund,  or  sea-wall,  of  Yoko- 
hama. When  this  craft  runs  up  its  signal-flag  a  United 
States  man-of-war,  if  there  be  one  in  port,  fires  two 
guns,  as  a  signal  that  the  American  mail  has  arrived. 

Daylight  reveals  a  succession  of  terraced  hills,  cleft 
by  narrow  green  valleys  and  narrower  ravines ;  little  vil- 
lages, their  clusters  of  thatched  roofs  shaded  by  pine, 
palm,  or  bamboo ;  fishing-boats  always  in  the  foreground, 
and  sometimes  Fuji  clear-cut  against  the  sky,  its  base 
lost  now  and  then  behind  the  overlapping  hills.  In 
summer  Fuji's  purple  cone  shows  only  ribbon  stripes  of 
white  near  its  apex.     For  the  rest  of  the  year  it  is  a 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

silvery,  shining  vision,  rivalled  only  by  Mount  Rainier, 
which,  pale  with  eternal  snows,  rises  from  the  dense 
forests  of  Puget  Sound  to  glass  itself  in  those  green  wa- 
ters. 

Yokohama  disappoints  the  traveller,  after  the  splen- 
did panorama  of  the  Bay.  The  Bund,  or  sea-road,  with 
its  club-houses,  hotels,  and  residences  fronting  the  wa- 
ter, is  not  Oriental  enough  to  be  very  picturesque.  It 
is  too  European  to  be  Japanese,  and  too  Japanese  to  be 
European,  The  water  front,  which  suffers  by  compari- 
son with  the  massive  stone  buildings  of  Chinese  ports, 
is,  however,  a  creditable  contrast  to  our  untidy  Ameri- 
can docks  and  quays,  notwithstanding  the  low -tiled 
roofs,  blank  fences,  and  hedges.  The  water  life  is  vivid 
and  spectacular.  The  fleet  of  black  merchant  steamers 
and  white  men-of-war,  the  ugly  pink  and  red  canal-steam- 
ers, and  the  crowding  brigs  and  barks,  are  far  outnum- 
bered by  the  fleet  of  sampans  that  instantly  surround 
the  arriving  mail.  Steam-launches,  serving  as  mail-wag- 
on and  hotel  omnibus,  snort,  puff,  and  whistle  at  the 
gang-ways  before  the  buoy  is  reached ;  and  voluble  boat- 
men keep  up  a  steady  bzz,  bzz,  whizz,  whizz,  to  the  strokes 
of  their  crooked,  wobbling  oars  as  they  scull  in  and  out. 
Four  or  five  thousand  people  live  on  the  shipping  in  the 
harbor,  and  in  ferrying  this  population  to  and  fro  and 
purveying  to  it  the  boatmen  make  their  livelihood.  Strict 
police  regulations  keep  them  safe  and  peaceable,  and  the 
harbor  impositions  of  other  countries  are  unknown.  On 
many  of  these  sampans  the  whole  family  abides,  the 
women  cooking  over  a  handful  of  charcoal  in  a  small 
box  or  bowl,  the  children  playing  in  corners  not  occu- 
pied by  passengers  or  freight.  On  gala  days,  when  the 
shipping  is  decorated,  the  harbor  is  a  beautiful  sight ;  or 
when  the  salutes  of  the  foreign  fleets  assembled  at  Yoko- 
hama are  returned  by  the  guns  of  the  fort  on  Kanagawa 
Heights,  and    the    air   tingles  with   excitement.     Since 


^ 


The  North  Pacific  and  Yokohama 

the  annexation  of  the  Philippines  the  American  Asiatic 
fleet  has  been  fully  occupied  in  that  archipelago,  and 
the  vessels  seldom  visit  Yokohama,  or  remain  for  any 
time.  The  acquisition  of  Wei-hai-Wei  gave  the  British 
fleet  a  northern  station,  and  that,  with  the  perpetual 
break-up  and  crisis  in  China,  keeps  those  ships  and  the 
fleets  of  all  nations  closely  to  that  coast.  Nagasaki's 
coal  mines  make  it  the  great  port  of  naval  call  and  sup- 
ply in  Japan. 

A  mole  and  protected  harbor  with  stone  docks  has 
been  built  with  the  money  finally  returned  to  Japan 
by  the  United  States,  after  being  shamefully  withheld 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  as  our  share  of  the  Shimono- 
seki  Indemnity  Fund.  The  outer  harbor  lies  so  open 
to  the  prevailing  south-east  winds  that  loading  and  un- 
loading is  often  delayed  for  days,  and  landing  by  launch- 
es or  sampans  is  a  wet  process.  The  Bay  is  so  shallow 
that  a  stiff  wind  quickly  sends  its  waves  breaking  over 
the  sea-wall,  to  subside  again  in  a  few  hours  into  a  mir- 
ror-like calm.  The  harbor  has  had  its  great  typhoons, 
but  does  not  lie  in  the  centre  of  those  dreaded  circular 
storms  that  whirl  up  from  the  China  seas.  Deflected  to 
eastward,  the  typhoon  sends  its  syphoon,  or  wet  end,  to 
fill  the  air  with  vapor  and  drizzle,  and  a  smothering,  mil- 
dewy, exhausting  atmosphere.  A  film  of  mist  covers 
everything,  wall-paper  loosens,  glued  things  fall  apart, 
and  humanity  wilts. 

Yokohama  has  its  divisions — the  Settlement,  the  BluflF, 
and  Japanese  Town  —  each  of  which  is  a  considerable 
place  by  itself.  The  Settlement,  or  region  originally  set 
apart  by  the  Japanese  in  1858  for  foreign  merchants, 
was  made  by  filling  in  a  swampy  valley  opening  to  the 
Bay.  This  Settlement,  at  first  separated  from  the  To- 
kaido  and  the  Japanese  town  of  Kanagawa,  has  become 
the  centre  of  a  surrounding  Japanese  population  of  over 
eighty  thousand.     It  is  built  up  continuously  to  Kana- 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

gawa  Bridge,  two  miles  farther  north,  on  the  edge  of  a 
bold  bluff,  where  the  Tokaido— the  East  Sea  Road — 
leading  up  from  Kioto,  reaches  the  Bay.  In  diplomatic 
papers  Kanagawa  is  still  recognized  as  the  name  of  the 
great  port  on  Yeddo  Bay,  although  the  consulates,  banks, 
hotels,  clubs,  and  business  streets  are  miles  away. 

At  the  hatoba,  or  landing-place,  the  traveller  is  confront- 
ed by  the  Jinrikisha,  that  big,  two-wheeled  baby-carriage 
of  the  country,  which,  invented  by  an  American,  has  been 
adopted  all  over  the  East.  The  jinrikisha  (or  kuruma, 
as  the  linguist  and  the  upper  class  more  politely  call  it) 
ranges  in  price  from  seventeen  to  forty  dollars,  twenty 
being  the  average  cost  of  those  on  the  public  stands. 
Some  thrifty  coolies  own  their  vehicles,  but  the  greater 
number  either  rent  them  from,  or  work  for,  companies, 
and  each  jinrikisha  pays  a  small  annual  tax  to  the  Gov- 
ernment. An  unwritten  rule  of  the  road  compels  these 
carriages  to  follow  one  another  in  regulated  single  file. 
The  oldest  or  most  honored  person  rides  at  the  head  of 
the  line,  and  only  a  boor  would  attempt  to  change  the 
order  of  arrangement.  Spinning  down  the  Bund,  at  a 
tariff  so  moderate  that  the  American  can  ride  for  a  week 
for  what  he  must  pay  in  a  day  at  home,  one  finds  the  jin- 
rikisha to  be  a  comfortable,  flying  arm-chair — a  little  pri- 
vate, portable  throne.  The  coolie  wears  a  loose  coat 
and  waistcoat,  and  tights  of  dark-blue  cotton,  with  straw 
sandals  on  his  bare  feet,  and  an  inverted  washbowl  of 
straw  covered  with  cotton  on  his  head.  When  it  rains 
he  is  converted  into  a  prickly  porcupine  by  his  straw 
rain-coat,  or  he  dons  a  queer  apron  and  cloak  of  oiled 
paper,  and,  pulling  up  the  hood  of  the  little  carriage, 
ties  a  second  apron  of  oiled  paper  across  the  knees  of 
his  fare.  At  night  the  shafts  are  ornamented  with  a  pa- 
per lantern  bearing  his  name  and  his  license  number; 
and  these  glowworm  lights,  flitting  through  the  streets 
and  country  roads  in  the  darkness,  seem  only  another 


The  North  Pacific  and  Yokohama 

expression  of  the  Japanese  love  of  the  picturesque.  In 
the  country,  after  dark,  they  call  warnings  of  ruts,  holes, 
breaks  in  the  road,  or  coming  crossways;  and  their  cries, 
running  from  one  to  another  down  the  line,  are  not  un- 
musical. To  this  smiling,  polite,  and  amiable  little  pony 
one  says  Hayaku  !  for  '■''\i\xxxy ,^^ Abunayo !  for  "  take  care," 
Sukoshitnate !  for  "  stop  a  little,"  and  Soro!  for  "slowly." 
The  last  command  is  often  needed  when  the  coolie,  lean- 
ing back  at  an  acute  angle  to  the  shaft,  dashes  down- 
hill at  a  rapid  gait.  Jinrikisha  coolies  are  said  even  to 
have  asked  extra  pay  for  walking  slowly  through  the  fas- 
cinating streets  of  open  shops.  If  you  experiment  with 
the  jinrikisha  on  a  level  road,  you  find  that  it  is  only  the 
first  pull  that  is  hard ;  once  started,  the  little  carriage 
seems  to  run  by  itself.  The  gait  of  the  man  in  the  shafts, 
and  his  height,  determine  the  comfort  of  the  ride.  A 
tall  coolie  holds  the  shafts  too  high,  and  tilts  one  at  an 
uncomfortable  angle ;  a  very  short  man  makes  the  best 
runner,  and,  with  big  toe  curling  upward,  will  trot  along 
as  regularly  as  a  horse.  As  one  looks  down  upon  the 
bobbing  creature  below  a  hat  and  two  feet  seem  to  con- 
stitute the  whole  motor. 

The  waraji,  or  sandals,  worn  by  these  coolies  are 
woven  of  rice  straw,  and  cost  less  than  five  cents  a 
pair.  In  the  good  old  days  they  were  much  cheaper. 
Every  village  and  farm-house  make  them,  and  every  shop 
sells  them.  In  their  manufacture  the  big  toe  is  a  great 
assistance,  as  this  highly  trained  member  catches  and 
holds  the  strings  while  the  hands  weave.  On  country 
roads  wrecks  of  old  waraji  lie  scattered  where  the  wear- 
er stepped  out  of  them  and  ran  on,  while  ruts  and  mud- 
holes  are  filled  with  them.  For  long  tramps  the  for- 
eigner finds  the  waraji  and  the  tabi,  or  digitated  stocking, 
much  better  than  his  own  clumsy  boots,  and  he  ties  them 
on  as  overshoes  when  he  has  rocky  paths  to  climb.  Coo- 
lies often  dispense  with  waraji  and  wear  heavy  tabi,  with 

9 


'Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

a  strip  of  the  almost  indestructible  hechima  fibre  for  the 
soles.  The  hechima  is  the  gourd  which  furnishes  the 
vegetable  washrag,  or  looffa  sponge  of  commerce.  The 
snow-white  cotton  tabis  of  the  better  classes  are  made  an 
important  part  of  their  costume. 

Those  coolies  who  pull  and  push  heavily  loaded  carts 
or  drays  keep  up  a  hoarse  chant,  which  corresponds  to 
the  chorus  of  sailors  when  hauling  ropes.  ^'^  Hilda ! 
HoidaP'  they  seem  to  be  crying,  as  they  brace  their  feet 
for  a  hard  pull,  and  the  very  sound  of  it  exhausts  the  lis- 
tener. In  the  old  days  people  were  nearly  deafened  with 
these  street  choruses,  but  their  use  is  another  of  the  he- 
reditary customs  that  is  fast  dying  out.  In  mountain 
districts  one's  chair  -  bearers  wheeze  out  "ZT/  rikisha) 
Ho  rikishaf"  or  "lio  shaf  Ito  shaf"  as  they  climb  the 
steepest  paths,  and  they  cannot  keep  step  nor  work  vig- 
orously without  their  chant. 


CHAPTER    II 
YOKOHAMA 


The  Settlement  is  bounded  by  the  creek,  from  whose 
opposite  side  many  steep  hill-roads  wind  up  to  the  Bluff, 
where  most  of  the  foreigners  have  their  houses.  These 
bluff- roads  pass  between  the  hedges  surrounding  trim 
villas  with  their  beautifully  set  gardens,  the  irregular 
numbering  of  whose  gates  soon  catches  the  stranger's 
eye.  The  first  one  built  being  number  one,  the  others 
were  numbered  in  the  order  of  their  erection,  so  that 
high  and  low  numerals  are  often  side  by  side.  To  coo- 
lies, servants,  peddlers,  and  purveyors,  foreign  residents 
are  best  known  by  their  street-door  numeration,  and 
'* Number  four  Gentleman"  and  "Number  five  Lady" 


Yokohama 

are  recurrent  and  adequate  descriptions.  So  well  used 
are  the  subjects  of  it  to  this  convict  system  of  identifica- 
tion that  they  recognize  their  friends  by  their  alias  as 
readily  as  the  natives  do. 

Upon  the  Bluff  stand  a  public  hall,  United  States  and 
British  marine  hospitals,  a  French  and  a  German  hos- 
pital, several  missionary  establishments,  and  the  houses 
of  the  large  American  missionary  community.  At  the  ex- 
treme west  end  a  colony  of  Japanese  florists  has  planted 
toy-gardens  filled  with  vegetable  miracles;  burlesques 
and  fantasies  of  horticulture;  dwarf-trees,  a  hundred 
years  old,  that  could  be  put  in  the  pocket ;  huge  single 
flowers,  and  marvellous  masses  of  smaller  blossoms ; 
cherry-trees  that  bear  no  cherries ;  plum-trees  that  bloom 
in  midwinter,  but  have  neither  leaves  nor  fruit ;  and  roses 
—  that  favorite  flower  which  the  foreigner  brought  with 
him — flowering  in  Californian  profusion.  A  large  busi- 
ness is  done  in  the  exportation  of  Japanese  plants  and 
bulbs,  encased  in  a  thick  coating  of  mud,  which  makes 
an  air-tight  case  to  protect  them  during  the  sea-voyage. 
Ingenious  fern  pieces  are  preserved  in  the  same  way. 
These  grotesque  things  are  produced  by  wrapping  in 
moist  earth  the  long,  woody  roots  of  a  fine-leafed  variety 
of  fern.  They  are  made  to  imitate  dragons,  junks,  tem- 
ples, boats,  lanterns,  pagodas,  bells,  balls,  circles,  and 
every  familiar  object.  When  bought  they  look  dead.  If 
hung  for  a  few  days  in  the  warm  sun,  and  occasionally 
dipped  in  water,  they  change  into  feathery,  green  objects 
that  grow  more  and  more  beautiful,  and  are  far  more 
artistic  than  our  one  conventional  hanging-basket.  The 
dwarf -trees  do  not  stand  transportation  well,  as  they 
either  die  or  begin  to  grow  rapidly. 

The  Japanese  are  the  foremost  landscape  gardeners 
in  the  world,  as  we  Occidentals,  who  are  still  in  that 
barbaric  period  where  carpet  gardening  seems  beautiful 
and  desirable,  shall  in  time  discover.     Their  genius  has 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

equal  play  in  an  area  of  a  yard  or  a  thousand  feet,  and 
a  Japanese  gardener  will  doubtless  come  to  be  consid- 
ered as  necessary  a  part  of  a  great  American  establish- 
ment as  a  French  maid  or  an  English  coachman.  From 
generations  of  nature-loving  and  flower-worshipping  an- 
cestors these  gentle  followers  of  Adam's  profession  have 
inherited  an  intimacy  with  growing  things,  and  a  power 
over  them  that  we  cannot  even  understand.  Their  very 
farming  is  artistic  gardening,  and  their  gardening  half 
necromancy. 

On  high  ground,  beyond  the  Bluff  proper,  stretches 
the  race-course,  where  spring  and  fall  there  are  running 
races  by  short-legged,  shock-headed  ponies,  brought  from 
the  Hokkaido,  the  northern  island,  or  from  China.  Gen- 
tlemen jockeys  frequently  ride  their  own  horses  in  flat 
races,  hurdle-races,  or  steeple-chases.  The  banks  close, 
a  general  holiday  reigns  throughout  the  town,  and  often 
the  Emperor  comes  down  from  Tokio.  This  race-course 
affords  one  of  the  best  views  of  Fuji,  and  from  it  curves 
the  road  made  in  early  days  for  the  sole  use  of  foreign- 
ers to  keep  them  off  the  Tokaido,  where  they  had  more 
than  once  come  in  conflict  with  trains  of  travelling  no- 
bles. This  road  leads  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and, 
following  the  shore  of  Mississippi  Bay,  where  Commo- 
dore Perry's  ships  anchored  in  1858,  strikes  across  a  rice 
valley  and  climbs  to  the  Bluff  again. 

The  farm-houses  it  passes  are  so  picturesque  that  one 
cannot  believe  them  to  have  a  utilitarian  purpose.  They 
seem  more  like  stage  pictures  about  to  be  rolled  away 
than  like  actual  dwellings.  The  new  thatches  are  bright- 
ly yellow,  and  the  old  thatches  are  toned  and  mellowed, 
set  with  weeds,  and  dotted  with  little  gray-green  bunches 
of  "  hen  and  chickens,"  while  along  the  ridge-poles  is  a 
bed  of  growing  lilies.  There  is  an  old  wife's  tale  to  the 
effect  that  the  women's  face-powder  was  formerly  made 
of  lily-root,  and  that  a  ruler  who  wished  to  stamp  out 


Yokohama 

such  vanities,  decreed  that  the  plant  should  not  be  grown 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  whereupon  the  people  promptly 
dug  it  up  from  their  gardens  and  planted  it  in  boxes  on 
the  roof. 

The  Japanese  section  of  Yokohama  is  naturally  less 
Japanese  than  places  more  remote  from  foreign  influ- 
ence, but  the  stranger  discovers  much  that  is  odd,  unique, 
and  Oriental.  That  delight  of  the  shopper,  Honchodori, 
with  its  fine  curio  and  silk  shops,  was  once  without  a 
shop-window,  the  entire  front  of  the  cheaper  shops  be- 
ing open  to  the  streets,  and  only  the  old  lacquer  and 
bronzes,  ivory,  porcelains,  enamels,  silver,  and  silks  con- 
cealed by  high  wooden  screens  and  walls.  Now  glass 
windows  flaunt  all  that  the  shops  can  offer.  The  silk 
shops  are  filled  with  goods  distracting  to  the  foreign 
buyer,  among  which  are  the  wadded  silk  wrappers,  made 
and  sold  by  the  hundreds,  which,  being  the  contrivance 
of  some  ingenious  missionary,  were  long  known  as  mis- 
sionary coats. 

Benten  Dori,  the  bargain -hunter's  Paradise,  is  a  de- 
lightful quarter  of  a  mile  of  open-fronted  shops.  In  the 
silk  shops,  crapes  woven  in  every  variety  of  cockle  and 
wrinkle  and  rippling  surface,  as  thin  as  gauze,  or  as  thick 
and  heavy  as  brocade,  painted  in  endless,  exquisite  de- 
signs, are  brought  you  by  the  basketful.  Each  length  is 
rolled  on  a  stick,  and  finally  wrapped  in  a  bit  of  the 
coarse  yellow  cotton  cloth  that  envelopes  every  choice 
thing  in  Japan,  though  for  what  reason,  no  native  or  for- 
eigner, dealer  or  connoisseur  can  tell. 

Nozawaya  has  a  godown  or  fire-proof  storehouse  full 
of  cotton  crapes,  those  charmingly  artistic  fabrics  that 
the  Western  world  has  just  begun  to  appreciate.  The 
pock-marked  and  agile  proprietor  will  keep  his  small 
boys  running  for  half  an  hour  to  bring  in  basketfuls  of 
cotton  crape  rolls,  each  roll  measuring  a  little  over  eleven, 
yards,  which  will  make  one  straight,  narrow  kimono  with 

»3 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

a  pair  of  big  sleeves.  These  goods  are  woven  in  the 
usual  thirteen-inch  Japanese  width,  although  occasionally 
made  wider  for  the  foreign  market.  A  Japanese  kimono 
is  a  simple  thing,  and  one  may  put  on  the  finished  gar- 
ment an  hour  after  choosing  the  cloth  to  make  it.  The 
cut  never  varies,  and  it  is  still  sewn  with  basters'  stitches, 
although  the  use  of  foreign  flat-irons  obviates  the  neces- 
sity of  ripping  the  kimono  apart  to  wash  and  iron  it. 
The  Japanese  flat-iron  is  a  copper  bowl  filled  with  burn- 
ing charcoal,  which,  with  its  long  handle,  is  really  a  small 
warming-pan.  Besides  this  contrivance,  there  is  a  flat 
arrow  point  of  iron  with  a  shorter  handle,  whicn  does 
smaller  and  quite  as  ineffectual  service. 

To  an  American,  nothing  is  simpler  than  Japanese 
money.  T\\^  yen  corresponds  to  our  dollar,  and  is  made 
up  of  one  hundred  seti^  while  ten  rin  make  one  sen.  The 
yen  is  about  equal  in  value  to  the  Mexican  dollar,  and  is 
roughly  reckoned  at  fifty  cents  gold  United  States 
money.  One  says  dollars  or  yens  indiscriminately,  al- 
ways meaning  the  Mexican,  which  is  the  current  coin  of 
the  East.  The  old  copper  coins,  the  rin  and  the  oval 
tempo,  each  with  a  hole  in  the  middle,  are  disappearing 
from  circulation,  and  at  the  Osaka  mint  they  are  melted 
and  made  into  round  sens.  Old  gold  and  silver  coins 
may  be  bought  in  the  curio  shops.  If  they  have  not  little 
oblong  silver  bu,  or  a  long  oval  gold  ko  ban,  the  silversmith 
will  offer  to  make  some,  which  will  answer  every  purpose  ! 

When  you  ask  for  your  bill,  a  merchant  takes  up  his 
frame  of  sliding  buttons — the  soroban,  or  abacus — and 
plays  a  clattering  measure  before  he  can  tell  its  amount. 
The  soroban  is  infallible,  though  slow,  and  in  the  head  of 
the  educated  Japanese,  crowded  with  thousands  of  arbi- 
trary characters  and  words,  there  is  no  room  for  mental 
arithmetic.  You  buy  two  toys  at  ten  cents  apiece.  Clat- 
ter, clatter  goes  the  soroban,  and  the  calculator  asks  you 
for  twenty  cents.     Depending  entirely  on  the  soroban, 

>4 


Yokohama 

they  seem  unable  to  reckon  the  smallest  sums  without 
it,  and  any  peddler  who  forgets  to  bring  his  frame  may 
be  puzzled.  The  dealer  in  old  embroideries  will  twist 
and  work  his  face,  scratch  his  head,  and  move  his  fingers 
in  the  air  upon  an  imaginary  soroban  over  the  simplest 
addition,  division,  and  subtraction.  At  the  bank,  the 
shroff  has  a  soroban  a  yard  long ;  and  merchants  say 
that  in  book-keeping  the  soroban  is  invaluable,  as  by  its 
use  whole  columns  of  figures  can  be  added  and  proved 
in  less  time  than  by  our  mental  methods. 

By  an  iron  bridge,  the  broad  street  at  the  top  of  Ben- 
ten  Dori  crosses  one  of  the  many  canals  extending  from 
the  creek  in  every  direction,  and  forming  a  net-work  of 
water  passages  from  Mississippi  Bay  to  Kanagawa.  Be- 
yond the  bridge  is  Isezakicho,  a  half  mile  of  theatres, 
side-shows,  merry-go-rounds,  catchpenny  games,  candy 
shops,  restaurants,  second-hand  clothes  bazaars,  laby- 
rinths of  curio,  toy,  china,  and  wooden  -  ware  shops. 
Hundreds  of  perambulating  restaurateurs  trundle  their 
little  kitchens  along,  or  swing  them  on  a  pole  over  their 
shoulders.  Dealers  in  ice-cream,  so  called,  abound,  who 
will  shave  you  a  glass  of  ice,  sprinkle  it  with  sugar,  and 
furnish  a  minute  teaspoon  with  which  to  eat  it.  There 
are  men  who  sell  soba,  a  native  vermicelli,  eaten  with 
pungent  soy;  and  men  who,  for  a  penny,  heat  a  big  grid- 
iron, and  give  a  small  boy  a  cup  of  batter  and  a  cup  of 
soy,  with  which  he  may  cook  and  eat  his  own  griddle 
cakes.  There  the  people,  the  middle  and  lower  classes, 
present  themselves  for  study  and  admiration,  and  the 
spectator  never  wearies  of  the  outside  dramas  and  pano- 
ramas to  be  seen  in  this  merry  fair. 

Pretty  as  she  is  on  a  pictured  fan,  the  living  Japanese 
woman  is  far  more  satisfying  to  the  aesthetic  soul  as  she 
patters  along  on  her  wooden  clogs  or  straw  sandals. 
The  very  poorest,  in  her  single  cheap  cotton  gown,  oi 


Jinrtkisha  Days  in  Japan 

kimono,  is  as  picturesque  as  her  richer  sister  in  silk  and 
crape.  With  heads  elaborately  dressed,  and  folds  of  gay 
crape,  or  a  glittering  hair-pin  thrust  in  the  smooth  loops 
of  blue-black  hair,  they  seem  always  in  gala  array ;  and, 
rain  or  shine,  never  protect  those  elaborate  coiffures  with 
anything  less  ornamental  than  a  paper  umbrella,  except 
in  winter,  when  the  zukin,  a  yard  of  dark  crape  lined 
with  a  contrasting  color,  is  thrown  over  the  head,  con- 
cealing the  whole  face  save  the  eyes.  A  single  hair-pin 
of  tortoise-shell,  sometimes  tipped  with  coral  or  gold,  is 
all  that  respectable  women  of  any  class  wear  at  one  time. 
The  heavily  hair-pinned  women  on  cheap  fans  are  not 
members  of  good  society,  and  only  children  and  dancing- 
girls  are  seen  in  the  fantastic  flowers  and  trifles  sold  at 
a  hundred  shops  and  booths  in  this  and  every  street. 

The  little  children  are  the  most  characteristically  Jap- 
anese of  all  Japanese  sights.  Babies  are  carried  about 
tied  to  the  mothers'  back,  or  to  that  of  their  small  sisters. 
They  sleep  with  their  heads  rolling  helplessly  round, 
watch  all  that  goes  on  with  their  black  beads  of  eyes,  and 
never  cry.  Their  shaven  crovms  and  gay  little  kimonos, 
their  wise,  serene  countenances,  make  them  look  like 
cabinet  curios.  As  soon  as  she  can  walk,  the  Japanese 
girl  has  her  doll  tied  on  her  back,  until  she  learns  to 
carry  it  steadily  and  carefully  ;  after  that  the  baby  broth- 
er or  sister  succeeds  the  doll,  and  flocks  of  these  comical 
little  people,  with  lesser  people  on  their  backs,  wander 
late  at  night  in  the  streets  with  their  parents,  and  their 
funny  double  set  of  eyes  shine  in  every  audience  along 
Isezakicho. 

These  out-of-door  attractions  are  constantly  changing. 
Native  inventions  and  adaptations  of  foreign  ideas  con- 
tinually appear.  "  Pigs  in  clover  "  and  pot-hook  puzzles 
followed  only  a  few  weeks  behind  their  New  York  sea- 
son, and  street  fakirs  offer  perpetual  novelties.  Of  jug- 
glers the  line  is  endless,  their  performances  filling  inter- 


Yokohama 

ludes  at  theatres,  coming  between  the  courses  of  great 
dinners,  and  supplying  entertainment  to  any  garden  par- 
ty or  flower  f^te  in  the  homes  of  rich  hosts.  More  cun- 
ning than  these  gorgeously  clad  jugglers  is  an  old  man, 
who  roams  the  vicinity  of  Yokohama,  wearing  poor  cot- 
ton garments,  and  carrying  two  baskets  of  properties  by 
a  pole  across  his  shoulders.  On  a  street  corner,  a  lawn, 
a  piazza,  or  a  ship's  deck,  he  sets  up  his  baskets  for  a 
table,  and  performs  amazing  feats  with  the  audience  en- 
tirely encircling  him.  A  hatful  of  coppers  sufficiently  re- 
wards him,  and  he  swallows  fire,  spits  out  eggs,  needles, 
lanterns,  and  yards  of  paper-ribbon,  which  he  twirls  into 
a  bowl,  converts  into  actual  soba,  and  eats,  and  by  a 
magic  sentence  changes  the  remaining  vermicelli  into 
the  lance-like  leaves  of  the  iris  plant.  This  magician 
has  a  shrewd,  foxy  old  face,  whose  grimaces,  as  well  as 
his  pantomime,  his  capers,  and  poses,  are  tricks  in  them- 
selves. His  chuckling,  rippling  stream  of  talk  keeps  his 
Japanese  auditors  convulsed.  Sword  walkers  and  knife 
swallowers  are  plenty  as  blackberries,  and  the  phono- 
graph is  conspicuous  in  Isezakicho's  tents  and  booths. 
The  sceptic  and  investigator  wastes  his  time  in  the  effort 
to  penetrate  the  Japanese  jugglers'  mysteries.  Once,  at 
a  dinner  given  by  Governor  Tateno  at  Osaka,  the  foreign 
guest  of  honor  determined  to  be  cheated  by  no  optical 
delusions.  He  hardly  winked,  so  close  was  his  scrutiny, 
and  the  juggler  played  directly  to  him.  An  immense 
porcelain  vase  having  been  brought  in  and  set  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  the  juggler,  crawling  up,  let  himself 
down  into  it  slowly.  For  half  an  hour  the  sceptic  did 
not  raise  his  eyes  from  the  vase,  that  he  had  first  proved 
to  be  sound  and  empty,  and  to  stand  on  no  trap-door. 
After  this  prolonged  watch  the  rest  of  the  company  as- 
sailed him  with  laughter  and  jeers,  and  pointed  to  his 
side,  where  the  old  juggler  had  been  seated  for  some 
minutes  fanning  himself. 

«9 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  'Japan 


CHAPTER    III 
YOKOHAMA — CONTINUED 

In  the  Settlement,  back  of  the  main  street,  the  Chi- 
nese have  an  ill-smelling  corner  to  themselves.  Their 
greasy  walls  and  dirty  floors  affront  the  dainty  doll  dwell- 
ings across  the  creek,  and  the  airy  little  box  of  a  tea- 
house, whose  lanterns  swing  at  the  top  of  the  perpen- 
dicular bluff  behind  them.  Vermilion  paper,  baggy 
clothes,  pigtails,  harsh  voices,  and  vile  odors  reign  in 
this  Chinatown.  The  names  on  the  signs  are  curiosities 
in  themselves,  and  Cock  Eye,  tailor,  Ah  Nie  and  Wong 
Fai,  ladies'  tailors,  are  the  Poole,  Worth,  and  Felix  of  the 
foreign  community.  Only  one  Japanese  has  a  great  rep- 
utation as  dress-maker,  but  the  whole  guild  is  moderately 
successful,  and  prices  are  so  low  that  the  British  and 
French  houses  of  Yokohama  cannot  compete  with  them. 

There  is  a  large  joss-house  near  the  Chinese  consulate, 
and  at  their  midsummer,  autumn,  and  New-year's  festi- 
vals the  Celestials  hold  a  carnival  of  lanterns,  fire-crackers, 
incense,  paper-flowers,  varnished  pigs,  and  cakes.  The 
Japanese  do  not  love  these  canny  neighbors,  and  half 
the  strictures  of  the  passport  laws  are  designed  to  lim- 
it their  hold  on  the  business  of  the  country.  The  Chi- 
nese are  the  stronger  and  more  aggressive  people,  the 
hard-headed  financiers  of  the  East,  handling  all  the 
money  that  circulates  this  side  of  India.  In  every  bank 
Chinese  shroffs,  or  experts,  test  the  coins  and  make  the 
actual  payments  over  the  counters.  The  money-changers 
are  Chinese,  and  every  business  house  has  its  Chinese 


Yokohama 

compradore  or  superintendent,  through  whom  all  con- 
tracts and  payments  are  made.  The  Chinaman  has  the 
methodical,  systematic  brain,  and  no  convulsion  of  nat- 
ure or  commerce  makes  him  lose  his  head,  as  the  charm- 
ingly erratic,  artistic,  and  polite  Japanese  does.  In  many 
foreign  households  in  Japan  a  Chinese  butler,  or  head 
boy,  rules  the  establishment;  but  while  his  silent,  unvary- 
ing, clock-like  service  leaves  nothing  undone,  the  attend- 
ance of  the  bright-faced,  amiable,  and  exuberant  little 
natives  with  their  smiles,  their  matchless  courtesy,  and  ■ 
their  graceful  and  everlasting  bowing  is  far  more  agree- 
able. 

Homura  temple,  whose  stone  embankments  and  soaring 
roof  rise  just  across  the  creek,  is  generally  the  first  Budd- 
hist sanctuary  seen  by  the  tourist  coming  from  American 
shores.  Every  month  it  has  its  matsuri,  or  festival,  but 
sparrows  are  always  twittering  in  the  eaves,  children  play- 
ing about  the  steps,  and  devout  ones  tossing  their  coppers 
in  on  the  mats,  clapping  their  hands  and  pressing  their 
palms  together  while  they  pray.  One  of  the  most  impress- 
ive scenes  ever  witnessed  there  was  the  funeral  of  its  high- 
priest,  when  more  than  a  hundred  bonzes,  or  priests,  came 
from  neighboring  temples  to  assist  in  the  long  ceremonies, 
and  sat  rigid  in  their  precious  brocade  vestments,  chant- 
ing the  ritual  and  the  sacred  verse.  The  son,  who  suc- 
ceeded to  the  father's  office  by  inheritance,  had  prepared 
for  the  rites  by  days  of  fasting,  and,  pale,  hollow-eyed, 
but  ecstatic,  burned  incense,  chanted,  and  in  the  white 
robes  of  a  mourner  bore  the  mortuary  tablets  from  the 
temple  to  the  tomb.  Homura's  commercial  hum  was 
silenced  when  the  train  of  priests  in  glittering  robes, 
shaded  by  enormous  red  umbrellas,  wound  down  the 
long  terrace  steps  and  out  between  the  rows  of  tiny 
shops  to  the  distant  graveyard.  Yet  after  it  the  crowd 
closed  in,  barter  and  sale  went  on,  jinrikishas  whirled 
up  and  down,  and  pattering  women  and  toddling  children 


yinrikisha  Days  in  "yapan 

fell  into  their  places  in  the  tableaux  which  turn  Homu- 
ra's  chief  street  into  one  endless  panorama  of  Japanese 
lower-class  life. 

Half-way  up  one  of  the  steep  roads,  climbing  from 
Homura  to  the  Blufif,  is  the  famous  silk  store  of  Tenabe 
Gengoro,  with  its  dependent  tea-house  of  Segiyama,  best 
known  of  all  tea-houses  in  Japan,  and  rendezvous  for  the 
wardroom  officers  of  the  fleets  of  all  nations,  since  Te- 
nabe's  uncle  gave  official  welcome  to  Commodore  Perry. 
When  a  war-ship  is  in  port,  the  airy  little  lantern-hung 
houses  continuously  send  out  the  music  of  the  koto  and 
the  samisen,  the  banjo,  bones,  and  zither,  choruses  of 
song  and  laughter,  and  the  measured  hand-clapping  that 
proclaims  good  cheer  in  Japan.  Tenabe  herself  has  now 
lost  the  perfect  bloom  and  beauty  of  her  younger  days, 
but  with  her  low,  silver-sweet  voice  and  fascinating  man- 
ner, she  remains  the  most  charming  woman  in  all  Japan. 
In  these  days  Tenabe  presides  over  the  silk  store  only, 
leaving  her  sisters  to  manage  the  fortunes  of  the  tea- 
house. Tenabe  speaks  English,  French,  and  Russian ; 
never  forgets  a  face,  a  name,  or  an  incident ;  and  if  you 
enter,  after  an  absence  of  many  years,  she  will  surely 
recognize  you,  serve  you  sweets  and  thimble-cups  of  pale 
yellow  tea,  and  say  dozo,  dozo,  "please,  please,"  with  grace 
incomparable  and  in  accents  unapproachable. 

Both  living  and  trammelling  are  delightfully  easy  in 
Japan,  and  no  hardships  are  encountered  in  the  ports 
or  on  the  great  routes  of  travel.  Yokohama  has  excel- 
lent hotels  ;  the  home  of  the  foreign  resident  may  be 
Queen  Anne,  or  Colonial,  if  he  like,  and  the  markets 
abound  in  meats,  fishy  game,  fruits,  and  vegetables  at 
very  low  prices.  Imported  supplies  are  dear  because  of 
the  cost  of  transportation.  Besides  the  fruits  of  our  cli- 
mates, there  are  the  biwa^  or  loquat,  and  the  delicious  kakS, 
or  Japanese  persimmon.  Natural  ice  is  brought  from 
Hakodate ;   artificial  ice  is  made  in  all  the  ports,  the 


Yokohama 

Japanese  being  as  fond  of  iced  drinks  as  Americans. 
Three  daily  English  newspapers,  weekly  mails  to  Lon- 
don and  New  York,  three  great  cable  routes,  electric 
lights,  breweries,  gas,  and  water -works  add  utilitarian 
comfort  to  ideal  picturesqueness.  The  summers  are  hot, 
but  instead  of  our  eccentric  variations  of  temperature, 
the  mercury  stands  at  80°,  85°,  and  go''  from  July  to  Sep- 
tember. With  the  fresh  monsoon  blowing  steadily,  that 
heat  is  endurable,  however,  and  the  nights  are  comfort- 
able. June  and  September  are  the  two  nyubai,  or  rainy 
seasons,  when  everything  is  damp,  clammy,  sticky,  and 
miserable.  In  May,  heavy  clothing  is  put  away  in  sealed 
receptacles,  even  gloves  being  placed  in  air-tight  glass 
or  tin,  to  preserve  them  from  the  ruinous  mildew.  While 
earthquakes  are  frequent,  Japan  enjoys  the  same  immu- 
nity from  thunder-storms  as  our  Pacific  Coast. 

There  is  no  servant  problem,  and  house  keeping  is  a 
delight.  Both  Chinese  and  Japanese,  though  unfamiliar 
with  western  ways,  can  be  trained  to  surpass  the  best 
European  domestics.  Service  so  swift,  noiseless,  and 
perfect  is  elsewhere  unknown.  Indeed,  cooks  as  well  as 
butlers  are  adjusted  to  so  grand  a  scale  of  living  that 
their  employers  are  served  with  almost  too  much  formal- 
ity and  elaboration.  The  art  of  foreign  cookery  has 
been  handed  down  from  those  exiled  c/iefs  who  came 
out  with  the  first  envoys,  to  insure  them  the  one  attain- 
able solace  of  existence  before  the  days  of  cables  and 
regular  steamships.  There  is  a  native  cuisine  of  great 
excellence,  and  each  legation  or  club  chef  has  pupils,  who 
pay  for  the  privilege  of  studying  under  him,  while  the 
ordinary  kitchener  of  the  treaty  ports  is  a  more  skilful 
functionary  than  the  professional  cook  of  American  cit- 
ies. Such  cooks  do  their  own  marketing,  furnish  without 
complaint  elaborate  menus  three  times  a  day,  serve  a 
dinner  party  every  night,  and  out  of  their  monthly  p.iy, 
ranging  from  ten  to  twenty  Mexican  dollars,  supply  iheir 

»3 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

own  board  and  lodging.  The  brotherhood  of  cooks  help 
each  other  in  emergencies,  and  if  suddenly  called  upon 
to  feed  twice  the  expected  number  of  guests,  any  one  of 
them  will  work  miracles.  He  runs  to  one  fellow-crafts- 
man to  borrow  an  extra  fish,  to  another  to  beg  an  entree, 
a  salad,  or  a  sweet,  and  helps  himself  to  table  ware  as 
well.  A  bachelor  host  is  often  amazed  at  the  fine  linen, 
the  array  of  silver,  and  the  many  courses  set  before  him 
on  the  shortest  notice,  and  learns  afterwards  that  every- 
thing was  gathered  in  from  neighboring  establishments. 
Elsewhere  he  may  meet  his  own  monogram  or  crest  at 
the  table.  Bachelors  keep  house  and  entertain  with  less 
trouble  and  more  comfort  than  anywhere  else  in  the 
world.  To  these  sybarites,  the  "  boy,"  with  his  rustling 
kimono,  is  more  than  a  second  self,  and  the  soft-voiced 
amahs,  or  maids,  are  the  delight  of  woman's  existence. 
The  musical  language  contributes  not  a  little  to  the 
charm  of  these  people,  and  the  chattering  servants  seem 
often  to  be  speaking  Italian. 

After  the  Restoration  many  samurai,  or  warriors,  were 
obliged  to  adopt  household  service.  One  of  these  at  my 
hotel  had  the  face  of  a  Roman  senator,  with  a  Roman 
dignity  of  manner  quite  out  of  keeping  with  his  broom 
and  dust-pan,  or  livery  of  dark-blue  tights,  smooth  vest, 
and  short  blouse  worn  by  all  his  class  in  Yokohama. 
When  a  card  for  an  imperial  garden  party  arrived,  I 
asked  Tatsu,  my  imperial  Roman,  to  read  it  for  me.  He 
took  it,  bowed  low,  sucked  in  his  breath  many  times,  and, 
muttering  the  lines  to  himself,  thus  translated  them  :  "  Mi- 
kado want  to  see  Missy,  Tuesday,  three  o'clock."  When  a 
curio-dealer  left  a  piece  of  porcelain,  Tatsu,  always  crit- 
ical of  purchases,  went  about  his  duties  slowly,  waiting 
for  the  favorable  moment  to  give  me,  in  his  broken  Eng- 
lish, a  dissertation  on  the  old  wares,  their  marks  and 
qualities,  and  his  opinion  of  that  particular  specimen 
of  blue  and  white.     He  knew  embroideries,  understood 


Yokohama 

pictures,  and  was  a  living  dictionary  of  Japanese  phrase 
and  fable.  A  pair  of  Korean  shoes  procured  me  a  lect- 
ure on  the  ancient  relations  between  Japan  and  Korea, 
and  an  epitome  of  their  contemporary  history. 

Social  life  in  these  foreign  ports  presents  a  delightful 
fusion  of  English,  continental,  and  Oriental  customs. 
The  infallible  Briton,  representing  the  largest  foreign 
contingency,  has  transferred  his  household  order  un- 
changed from  the  home  island,  yielding  as  little  as  pos- 
sible to  the  exigencies  of  climate  and  environment.  The 
etiquette  and  hours  of  society  are  those  of  England,  and 
most  of  the  American  residents  are  more  English  in 
these  matters  than  the  English.  John  Bull  takes  his 
beef  and  beer  with  him  to  the  tropics  or  the  poles  indif- 
ferently, and  in  his  presence  Jonathan  abjures  his  pie, 
and  outlaws  the  words  "guess,"  "cracker,"  "trunk," 
"  baggage,"  "  car,"  and  "  canned."  His  East  Indian  ex- 
periences of  a  century  have  taught  the  Briton  the  best 
system  of  living  and  care-taking  in  hot  or  malarial  coun- 
tries, and  he  thrives  in  Japan. 

In  the  small  foreign  communities  at  Yokohama,  Kobe, 
and  Nagasaki  the  contents  of  the  mail  -  bags,  social 
events,  and  the  perfection  of  physical  comfort  comprise 
the  interests  of  most  of  the  residents.  The  friction  of  a 
large  community,  with  its  daily  excitements  and  affairs,  the 
delights  of  western  art,  music,  and  the  drama,  are  absent, 
and  society  naturally  narrows  into  cliques,  sets,  rivalries, 
and  small  aims.  If  most  residents  did  not  affect  indif- 
ference to  things  Japanese,  life  would  be  much  more  in- 
teresting. As  it  is,  the  old  settler  listens  with  an  air  of 
superiority,  amusement,  and  fatigue  to  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  new-comer.  Not  every  foreign  resident  is  famil- 
iar with  the  art  of  Japan,  nor  with  its  history,  religion, 
or  political  conditions.  If  the  missionaries,  of  whom 
hundreds  reside  in  Yokohama  and  Tokio,  mingled  more 
with  the  foreign  residents,  each  class  would  benefit ;  but 

as 


yinrikisha  Days  hi  yapan 

the  two  sets  seldom  touch,  the  missionaries  keep  to 
themselves,  and  the  lives  of  the  other  extra-territorial 
people  continually  shock  and  offend  them.  Each  set 
holds  extreme,  unfair,  and  prejudiced  views  of  the  other, 
and  affords  the  natives  arguments  against  both. 

Socially,  Tokio  and  Yokohama  are  one  community, 
and  the  eighteen  miles  of  railroad  between  the  two  do 
not  hinder  the  exchange  of  visits  or  acceptance  of  invi- 
tations. When  the  Ministers  of  State  give  balls  in  To- 
kio, special  midnight  trains  carry  the  Yokohama  guests 
home,  as  they  do  when  the  clubs  or  the  naval  officers 
entertain  at  the  seaport  town.  With  the  coming  and  go- 
ing of  the  fleets  of  all  nations  great  activity  and  variety 
pervades  the  social  life.  In  the  increasing  swarm  of 
tourists  some  prince,  duke,  or  celebrity  is  ever  arriving, 
visitors  of  lesser  note  are  countless,  and  the  European 
dwellers  in  all  Asiatic  ports  east  of  Singapore  make 
Japan  their  pleasure-ground,  summer  resort,  and  sanita- 
rium. That  order  of  tourist  known  as  the  "globe-trotter," 
is  not  a  welcome  apparition  to  the  permanent  foreign 
resident.  His  generous  and  refined  hospitality  has  been 
so  often  abused,  and  its  recipients  so  often  show  a  half- 
contemptuous  condescension  to  their  remote  and  uncom- 
prehended  hosts,  that  letters  of  introduction  are  looked 
upon  with  dread.  Now  that  it  has  become  common  for 
parents  to  send  dissipated  young  sons  around  the  "  Horn  " 
and  out  to  Japan  on  sailing  vessels,  that  they  may  reform 
on  the  voyage,  a  new-comer  must  prove  himself  an  in- 
valid, if  he  would  not  be  avoided  after  he  confesses  hav- 
ing come  by  brig  or  bark.  Balls,  with  the  music  of  naval 
bands,  and  decorations  of  bamboo  and  bunting,  are  as 
beautiful  as  balls  can  be  ;  picnics  and  country  excursions 
enliven  the  whole  year;  and  there  are  perennial  dinners 
and  dances  on  board  the  men-of-war. 

Those  East-Indian  contrivances,  the  chit  and  the  c/nf- 
book,  furnish  a  partial  check  on  native  servants.     The 

36 


Yokohama 

average  resident  carries  little  ready  money,  but  writes  a 
memorandum  of  whatever  he  buys,  and  hands  it  to  the 
seller  instead  of  cash.  These  chits  are  presented  month- 
ly ;  but  the  system  tempts  people  to  sign  more  chits  than 
they  can  pay.  This  kind  of  account-keeping  is  more  gen- 
eral in  Chinese  ports,  where  one  may  well  object  to  re- 
ceive the  leaden-looking  Mexicans  and  ragged  and  dirty 
notes  of  the  local  banks.  When  one  sends  a  note  to  an 
acquaintance  he  enters  it  in  his  chit-book,  where  the  per- 
son addressed  adds  his  initials  as  a  receipt,  or  even 
writes  his  answer.  The  whole  social  machinery  is  regu- 
lated by  the  chit-book,  which  may  be  a  source  of  discord 
when  its  incautious  entries  and  answers  lie  open  to  any 
Paul  Pry. 

Summer  does  not  greatly  disturb  the  life  of  society. 
Tennis,  riding,  boating,  and  bathing  are  in  form,  while 
balls  and  small  dances  occur  even  in  July  and  August. 
At  niany  places  in  the  mountains  and  along  the  coast 
one  may  find  a  cooler  air,  with  good  hotels  and  tea- 
houses. Some  families  rent  country  temples  near  Yo- 
kohama for  summer  occupation,  and  enjoy  something 
between  the  habitual  Japanese  life  and  Adirondack  camp- 
ing. The  sacred  emblems  and  temple  accessories  are 
put  in  the  central  shrine  room,  screens  are  drawn,  and 
the  sanctuary  becomes  a  spacious  house,  open  to  the  air 
on  all  sides,  and  capable  of  being  divided  into  as  many 
separate  rooms  as  the  family  may  require.  Often  the 
priests  set  the  images  and  altar-pieces  on  a  high  shelf 
concealed  by  a  curtain,  and  give  up  the  whole  place  to 
the  heretical  tenants.  In  one  instance  the  broad  altar- 
shelf  became  a  recessed  sideboard,  whereon  the  gilded 
Buddhas  and  Kwannons  were  succeeded  by  bottles,  de- 
canters, and  glasses.  At  another  temple  it  was  stipu- 
lated that  the  tenants  should  give  up  the  room  in  front 
of  the  altar  on  a  certain  anniversary  day,  to  allow  the 
worshippers  to  come  and  pray. 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 


CHAPTER    IV 
THE    ENVIRONS   OF   YOKOHAMA 

The  environs  of  Yokohama  are  more  interesting  and 
beautiful  than  those  of  any  other  foreign  settlement,  af- 
fording an  inexhaustible  variety  of  tramps,  rides,  drives, 
railroad  excursions,  and  sampan  trips. 

At  Kanagawa  proper  the  Tokaido  comes  to  the  bay's 
edge,  which  it  follows  for  some  distance  through  double 
rows  of  houses  and  splendid  old  shade-trees.  Back  of 
Kanagawa's  bluff  lie  the  old  and  half-deserted  Bukenji 
temples,  crowded  on  rare  fete  days  with  worshippers, 
merrymakers,  and  keepers  of  booths,  and  at  quieter  times 
serving  as  favorite  picnic  grounds  for  foreigners. 

On  the  Tokaido,  just  beyond  Kanagawa,  is  the  grave 
of  Richardson,  who  was  killed  by  the  train  of  the  Prince 
of  Satsuma,  September  14,  1862.  Although  foreigners 
had  been  warned  to  keep  off  the  Tokaido  on  that  day, 
the  foolhardy  Briton  and  his  friends  deliberately  rode 
into  the  daimio's  train,  an  affront  for  which  they  were 
attacked  by  his  retainers  and  severely  wounded,  Rich- 
ardson himself  being  left  for  dead  on  the  road-side,  while 
the  rest  escaped.  When  the  train  had  passed  by,  a 
young  girl  ran  out  from  one  of  the  houses  and  covered 
the  body  with  a  piece  of  matting,  moving  it  in  the  night 
to  her  house,  and  keeping  it  concealed  until  his  friends 
claimed  it.  A  memorial  stone,  inscribed  with  Japanese 
characters,  marks  the  spot  where  Richardson  fell.  Since 
that  time  the  kindly  black-eyed  Susan's  tea-house  has 
been  the  favorite  resort  for  foreigners  on  their  afternoon 
rides  and  drives.     Susan  is  a  tall  woman,  with  round 


The  Environs  of  Yokohama 

eyes,  aquiline  nose,  and  a  Roman  countenance  —  quite 
fit  for  a  heroine.  Riders  call  at  her  tea-house  for  tea, 
rice,  and  eels,  prawns,  clams,  pea-nuts,  sponge-cake,  or 
beer,  and  insist  upon  seeing  her.  This  Richardson  affair 
cost  the  Japanese  the  bombardment  of  Kagoshima,  and 
an  indemnity  of  ;^i 25,000;  but  Susan  did  not  share  in 
the  division  of  that  sum. 

According  to  one  version  Susan's  strand  is  the  spot 
where  Taro  of  Urashima,  the  Rip  Van  Winkle  of  Japan, 
left  his  boat  and  nets,  and,  mounting  a  tortoise,  rode 
away  to  the  home  of  the  sea-king,  returning  by  the  same 
tortoise  to  the  same  spot.  On  its  sands  he  opened  the 
box  the  sea-king  had  given  him,  and  found  himself  veiled 
in  a  thin  smoke,  out  of  which  he  stepped  an  old,  old  man, 
whose  parents  had  been  dead  a  hundred  years.  The 
fishermen  listened  to  his  strange  tale,  and  carried  him 
to  their  daimio,  and  on  fans,  boxes,  plates,  vases,  and 
fukusas  Taro  sits  relating  his  wonderful  tale  to  this 
day. 

Ten  miles  inland  from  Bukenji's  temples  is  the  little 
village  of  Kawawa,  whose  headman  has  a  famous  col- 
lection of  chrysanthemums,  the  goal  of  many  autumnal 
pilgrimages.  This  Kawawa  collection  has  enjoyed  its 
fame  for  many  years,  the  owner  devoting  himself  to  it 
heart  and  soul,  and  knowing  no  cooling  of  ardor  nor 
change  of  fancy.  His  great  thatched  house  in  a  court- 
yard is  reached  through  a  black  gate-way  at  the  top  of  a 
little  hill,  and  the  group  of  buildings  within  his  black 
walls  gives  the  place  quite  a  feudal  air.  Facing  the  front 
of  the  house  are  rows  of  mat  sheds,  covering  the  precious 
flowers  that  stand  in  files  as  evenly  as  soldiers,  the  tops 
soft  masses  of  great  frowsy,  curly-petalled,  wide-spread 
ing  blooms,  shading  to  every  tint  of  lilac,  pink,  rose,  rus- 
set, brown,  gold,  orange,  pale  yellow,  and  snow  white.  It 
was  there  that  we  ate  a  salad  made  of  yellow  chrysanthe- 
mum petals,  most  aesthetic  of  dishes.   The  trays  of  golden 


yinriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

leaves  in  the  kitchen  of  the  house  indicated  that  the 
master  enjoyed  this  ambrosial  feast  habitually,  and  per- 
haps dropped  the  yellow  shreds  in  his  sakk  cup  to  pro- 
long his  life  and  avert  calamities,  as  they  are  warranted 


iWy 


AT   KAWAWA 


to  do.  Beyond  Kawawa  lies  a  rich  silk  district,  and  all 
the  region  is  marked  by  thrift  and  comfort,  signs  of  the 
prosperity  that  attends  silk-raising  communities. 

From  Negishi,  where   Yokohama's   creek  debouches 


The  Environs  of  Yokohama 

into  Mississippi  Bay,  one  looks  across  to  Sugita,  a  fish- 
ing village  with  an  ancient  temple  set  in  the  midst  of 
plum-trees  and  cherry-trees  that  make  it  a  place  of  f^tes 
in  February  and  April,  when  those  two  great  flower  fes- 
tivals of  the  empire,  the  blossoming  of  the  plum  and  the 
cherry,  are  observed.  From  the  bluff  above  Sugita,  at 
the  end  of  the  watery  cresent,  is  a  superb  view  of  the 
Bay  and  its  countless  sharp,  green  headlands.  Wherever 
the  view  is  fine  some  Japanese  family  has  encamped  in 
a  tateba,  the  least  little  mat  shed  of  a  house,  furnished 
with  a  charcoal  brazier,  half  a  dozen  tea-pots  and  cups, 
and  a  few  low  benches  covered  with  the  all-pervading 
red  blanket.  Their  national  passion  for  landscape  and 
scenery  draws  the  Japanese  to  places  having  fine  pros- 
pects, and  a  thrifty  woman,  with  her  family  of  children, 
turns  many  a  penny  by  means  of  her  comfortable  seat 
and  good  cheer  for  the  wayfarer.  Japan  is  the  picnicker's 
own  country,  whether  he  be  native  or  foreign.  Every- 
where, climbing  the  mountain-tops,  or  crouching  in  the 
valleys,  hidden  in  the  innermost  folds  of  the  hills,  or 
perched  on  the  narrowest  and  remotest  ledges  overhang- 
ing the  water,  one  finds  the  tea-house,  or  its  summer  com- 
panion, the  tateba,  with  its  open  sides  and  simmering 
kettle.  Everywhere  hot  water,  tea,  rice,  fruits,  eggs,  cups, 
plates,  glasses,  and  corkscrews  may  be  had.  These 
things  become  so  much  a  matter  of  course  after  a  time, 
that  the  tourist  must  banish  himself  to  China,  to  value, 
as  they  deserve,  the  clean  Japanese  tea-house,  and  the 
view-commanding  tateba  with  its  simple  comforts. 

Sugita's  plum-trees  bud  in  January,  and  blossom  as 
mild  days  and  warm  suns  encourage,  so  that  the  last 
week  of  February  finds  the  dead-looking  branches  clothed 
with  clouds  of  starry  white  flowers.  The  blossoming 
plum-tree  is  often  seen  when  snow  is  on  the  ground,  and 
the  hawthorn  pattern  of  old  porcelains  is  only  a  conven- 
tional representation  of  pale  blooms  fallen  on  the  seamed 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

ice  of  ponds  or  garden  lakelets.  The  plum  is  the  poet's 
tree,  and  symbolic  of  long  life,  the  snowy  blossoms  upon 
the  gnarled,  mossy,  and  unresponsive  branches  showing 
that  a  vital  current  still  animates  it,  and  the  heart  lives. 
At  New-years  a  dwarf-plum  is  the  ornament  of  every 
home,  and  to  give  one  is  to  wish  your  friend  length  of 
days.  U?ne,  the  plum  blossom,  has  a  fresh,  delicate,  elu- 
sive, and  peculiar  fragrance,  which  in  the  warm  sun  and 
open  air  is  almost  intoxicating,  but  in  a  closed  room  be- 
comes heavy  and  cloying.  The  blossoming  of  the  plum- 
tree  is  the  first  harbinger  of  spring,  and  to  Sugita  regu- 
larly every  year  go  the  court  ladies,  many  princes,  and 
great  officials  to  see  those  billows  of  bloom  that  lie 
under  the  Bluff,  and  the  pink  and  crimson  clouds  of  trees 
before  the  old  temple. 

During  the  rest  of  the  year  little  heed  is  paid  to  Sugi- 
ta's  existence,  and  the  small  fishing  village  in  the  curve 
of  the  Bay,  with  its  green  wall  of  bluffs,  is  as  quiet  as  in 
ihe  days  when  Commodore  Perry's  fleet  anchored  off  it 
and  Treaty  Point  acquired  its  name.  With  the  blossoms 
Sugita  puts  on  its  holiday  air,  tea-houses  open,  tateba 
spring  from  the  earth,  and  scores  of  low,  red-blanketed 
benches  are  scattered  through  the  grove,  signals  of  tea 
and  good  cheer,  equivalent  to  the  iron  tables  and  chairs 
of  Parisian  boulevards.  Strings  of  sampans  float  in  to 
shore,  lines  of  jinrikishas  file  over  the  hills,  zealous  pil- 
grims come  on  foot,  and  horsemen  trot  down  the  long, 
hard  beach.  The  tiny  hamlet  often  has  a  thousand  vis- 
itors in  a  day,  and  the  pretty  little  nesans,  or  tea-house 
maids,  patter  busily  about  with  their  trays  of  tea  and  solid 
food,  welcoming  and  speeding  the  guests,  and  looking 
— quaint,  odd,  and  charming  maidens  that  they  are — 
like  so  many  tableaux  vivants  with  their  scant  kimonos, 
voluminous  sleeves,  ornate  coiffures,  and  pigeon-toes. 

Notwithstanding  the  crowds,  everything  is  decorous, 
quiet,  and  orderly,  and  no  more  refined  pleasure  exists 


The  Environs  of  Yokohama 

than  this  Japanese  beatitude  of  sitting  lost  in  revery  and 
rapturous  contemplation  of  a  blossoming  tree,  or  inditing 
a  verse  to  ume  no  hana,  and  fastening  the  bit  of  paper  to 
the  branches.  In  this  Utopia  the  spring  poem  is  never 
rejected,  nor  made  the  subject  of  cruel  jokes.  The  winds 
fan  it  gently,  it  hangs  conspicuous,  it  is  read  by  him  who 
runs,  but  it  is  not  immortal,  and  the  first  heavy  rain 
leaves  it  a  wet  and  withered  wreck,  soon  to  fall  to  the 
ground  and  disappear. 

Just  outside  the  temple  door  is  a  plum-tree  whose  age 
is  lost  in  legend.  Its  bent  and  crooked  limbs  and  propped- 
up  branches  sustain^  a  thick-massed  pyramid  of  pale  rose- 
pink.  The  outer  boughs  droop  like  a  weeping-willow, 
and  their  flowers  seem  to  be  slipping  down  them  like 
rosy  rain-drops.  Poets  and  peers,  dreamers  and  plod- 
ders, coolies,  fishermen,  and  the  unspiritual  foreigner,  all 
admire  this  lovely  tree,  and  its  wide  arms  flutter  with 
poems  in  its  praise.  All  around  the  thatched  roof  of  the 
old  temple  stand  plum-trees  covered  with  fragant  blos- 
soms— snow  white,  palest  yellow,  rose,  or  deep  carna- 
tion-red. The  sheltering  hill  back  of  the  temple  is  crowd- 
ed with  gravestones,  tombs,  tablets,  and  mossy  Buddhas, 
sitting  calm  and  impassive  in  tangles  of  grasses  and 
vines  under  the  shadow  of  ancient  trees.  A  wide-spread- 
ing pine  on  the  crest  of  the  hill  is  a  famous  landmark, 
whence  one  looks  down  on  the  flower-wreathed  village, 
the  golden  bow  of  the  beach  curving  from  headland  to 
headland,  and  the  blue  bay  flashing  with  hundreds  of 
square  white  sails.  It  is  a  place  for  poesy  and  day- 
dreams, but  the  foreign  visitor  dedicates  it  to  luncheon, 
table-talk,  and  material  satisfactions,  and,  perhaps,  the 
warm  sun  and  air,  and  the  mild  fragrance  of  the  plum- 
blossoms  aid  and  abet  the  insatiable  picnic  appetite. 

All  this  part  of  Japan  is  old,  and  rich  in  temples, 
shrines,  and  picturesque  villages,  with  a  net-work  of  nar- 
row roads  and  shady  by-paths  leading  through  perpetual 


Jtnrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

scenes  of  sylvan  beauty.  Thatched  roofs,  whose  ridge 
poles  are  beds  of  lilies,  shaded  by  glorified  green  plumes 
of  bamboo-trees,  tall,  red-barked  cryptomerias,  crooked 
pines,  and  gnarled  camphor-trees,  everywhere  charm  the 
eye.  Little  red  temples,  approached  through  a  line  of 
picturesque  torii — that  skeleton  gate-way  that  makes  a 
part  of  every  Japanese  view  or  picture — red  shrines  no 
larger  than  marten  boxes  ;  stone  Buddhas,  sitting  cross- 
legged,  chipped,  broken-nosed,  headless,  and  moss-grown ; 
odd  stone  tablets  and  lanterns  crowd  the  hedges  and 
banks  of  the  road-side,  snuggle  at  the  edges  of  groves, 
or  stand  in  the  corners  of  rice  fields. 

Fair  as  the  spring  days  are,  when  the  universal  green 
mantle  of  the  earth  is  adorned  with  airy  drifts  of  plum 
and  cherry-blossoms,  the  warm,  mellow  sunshine,  glori- 
ous tints  and  clear  bright  air  of  autumn  are  even  fairer. 
One  may  forget  and  forgive  the  Japanese  summer  for 
the  sake  of  the  weeks  that  follow,  an  Indian  summer 
which  often  lasts  without  break  for  four  months  after 
the  equinoctial  storm.  Except  that  Fujiyama  gleams 
whiter  and  whiter,  there  is  no  suggestion  of  winter's  ter- 
rors, and  only  a  pleasant  crispness  in  the  bracing  and 
intoxicating  air.  When  the  maple  leaves  begin  to  turn, 
and  a  second  rose-blossoming  surpasses  that  of  June  in 
color,  prodigality,  and  fragrance,  autumnal  Japan  is  the 
typical  earthly  Paradise.  Every  valley  is  a  floor  of  gold- 
en rice  stubble,  every  hill-side  a  tangle  of  gorgeous  foli- 
age. The  persimmon-trees  hang  full  of  big  golden  kake, 
sea  and  sky  wear  their  intensest  blue,  and  Fujiyama's 
loveliness  shines  out  against  the  western  sky.  In  among 
the  yellowing  stubble  move  blue-clad  farmers  with  white 
mushroom  hats.  Before  the  farm-houses  men  and  wom- 
en swing  their  flails,  beating  the  grain  spread  out  on 
straw  matting.  The  rice  straw,  whether  bunched  in 
pretty  sheaves,  tied  across  poles,  like  a  New-year's  fringe, 
or  stacked  in  collars  around  the  tree-trunks,  is  always 

3* 


The  Environs  of  Yokohama 

decorative.  Meditative  oxen,  drawing  a  primitive  plough 
made  of  a  pointed  stick,  loosen  the  soil  for  the  new  plant- 
ing, and  tiny  green  wheat-shoots,  first  of  the  three  regu- 
lar crops  of  the  year,  wait  for  the  warm  winter  sun  that 
opens  the  plum-blossoms. 

Above  and  beyond  Sugita  is  Mine,  a  temple  on  a 
mountain-top,  with  a  background  of  dense  pine  forest, 
a  foreground  of  bamboos,  and  an  old  priest,  whose  suc- 
cessful use  of  the  moxa  brings  sufferers  from  long  dis- 
tances for  treatment.  A  bridle-path  follows  for  several 
miles  the  knife-edge  of  a  ridge  commanding  noble  views 
of  sea  and  shore,  of  the  blue  Hakone  range,  its  great 
sentinel  Oyama,  and  Fuji  beyond.  The  high  ridge  of 
Mine  is  the  backbone  of  a  great  promontory  running 
out  into  the  sea,  the  Bay  of  Yeddo  on  one  side  and 
Odawara  Bay  on  the  other.  Square  sails  of  unnum- 
bered fishing-boats  fleck  the  blue  horizon,  and  the  view 
seaward  is  unbroken.  Over  an  old  race -course  and 
archery  -  range  of  feudal  days  the  path  leads,  till  at  a 
sudden  turn  it  strikes  into  a  pine  forest,  where  the 
horses'  hoofs  fall  noiseless  on  thick  carpets  of  dry  pine- 
needles,  and  the  cave -like  twilight,  coolness,  and  still- 
ness seem  as  solemn  as  in  that  wood  where  Virgil  and 
Dante  walked,  before  they  visited  the  circles  of  the  other 
world. 

A  steep  plunge  down  a  slippery,  clayey  trail  takes  the 
rider  from  the  melancholy  darkness  to  a  solitary  forest 
clearing,  with  low  temple  buildings  on  one  side.  Here, 
massed  against  feathery  fronds  of  giant  bamboos,  blaze 
boughs  of  fine -leafed  maples,  all  vivid  crimson  to  the 
tips.  While  the  priests  bring  sakd  tubs,  and  the  antado, 
or  outside  shutters  of  their  house,  to  make  a  table,  and 
improvise  benches  with  various  temple  and  domestic 
properties,  visitors  may  wander  through  the  forest  to 
open  spaces,  whence  all  the  coasts  of  the  two  bays  and 
every  valley  of  the  province  lie  visible,  and  a  column  of 


yinrtkisha  Days  in  "Japan 

smoke  proclaims  the  living  volcano  on  Oshima's  island, 
far  down  the  coast. 

Groups  of  cheery  pilgrims  come  chattering  down  from 
the  forest,  untie  their  sandals,  wash  their  feet,  and  dis- 
appear within  the  temple ;  where  the  old  priest  writes 
sacred  characters  on  their  bared  backs  to  indicate  where 
his  attendant  shall  place  the  lumps  of  sticky  moxa  dough. 
Another  attendant  goes  down  the  line  of  victims  and 
touches  a  light  to  these  cones,  which  burn  with  a  slow, 
red  glow,  and  hiss  and  smoke  upon  the  flesh  for  agoniz- 
ing seconds.  The  priest  reads  pious  books  and  casts  up 
accounts,  while  the  patients  endure  without  a  groan  tor- 
tures compared  with  which  the  searing  with  the  white- 
hot  irons  of  Parisian  moxa  treatment  is  comfortable. 
The  Mine  priest  has  some  secret  of  composition  for  his 
moxa  dough  which  has  kept  it  in  favor  for  many  years, 
and  almost  the  only  revenue  of  the  temple  is  derived 
from  this  source.  Rheumatism,  lumbago,  and  paralysis 
yield  to  the  moxa  treatment,  and  the  Japanese  resort  to 
it  for  all  their  aches  and  ills,  the  coolies'  backs  and  legs 
being  often  finely  patterned  with  its  scars. 

The  prospect  from  Mine's  promontory  is  rivalled  by 
that  at  Kanozan,  directly  across  the  Bay,  one  of  the 
highest  points  on  the  long  tongue  of  separating  land. 
Here  are  splendid  old  temples,  almost  unvisited  by  for- 
eigners, but  the  glory  of  the  place  is  the  view  of  the 
ninety-nine  valleys,  of  Yeddo  Bay,  the  ocean,  and  the 
ever -dominant  Fujiyama.  Every  Japanese  knows  the 
famous  landscapes  of  his  country,  and  the  mention  of 
these  ninety-nine  valleys  and  the  thousand  pine -clad 
islands  of  Matsuyama  brings  a  light  to  his  eyes. 

At  Yokosuka,  fifteen  miles  below  Yokohama,  are  the 
Government  arsenal,  navy  -  yard,  and  dry  docks,  with 
their  fleets  of  war-ships  that  put  to  shame  the  American 
squadron  in  Asiatic  waters.  The  Japanese  Government 
has  both  cdfistructed  and  bought  a  navy ;  some  vessels 

36 


The  Environs  of  Yokohavia 

coming  from   Glasgow  yards,  and  others  having  been 
built  at  these  docks. 

Uraga,  reached  from  Yokosuka  by  a  winding,  Cornice- 
like road  along  the  coast,  is  doubly  notable  as  being  the 
port  off  which  Commodore  Perry's  ships  first  anchored, 
and  the  place  where  midzti  amc,  or  millet  honey,  is  made. 
The  whole  picturesque,  clean  little  town  is  given  up  to 
the  production  of  the  amber  sweet,  and  there  are  certain 
families  whose  midzu  ame  has  not  varied  in  excellence 
for  more  than  three  hundred  years.  The  rice,  or  millet, 
is  soaked,  steamed,  mixed  with  warm  water  and  barley 
malt,  and  left  to  stand  a  few  hours,  when  a  clear  yellow 
liquid  is  drawn  off  and  boiled  down  to  a  thick  syrup  or 
paste,  or  cooked  until  it  can  be  moulded  into  hard  balls. 
Unaffected  by  weather,  it  is  the  best  of  Japanese  sweets, 
and  in  its  semiliquid  stage  is  twisted  out  on  chopsticks 
at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  The  older  and  browner  the 
midzu  ame  is,  the  better.  It  may  be  called  the  apotheo- 
sis of  butter-scotch,  a  glorified  Oriental  taffy,  constantly 
urged  upon  one  for  one's  own  good,  and  conceded  by  for- 
eign physicians  in  Japan  to  be  of  great  value  for  dyspep- 
tics and  consumptives.  Though  prepared  all  over  the 
empire,  this  curative  sweet  is  the  specialty  of  Uraga; 
and  the  secrets  and  formulas  held  in  the  old  families 
make  for  Uraga  midzu  ame,  as  compared  with  other  pro- 
ductions, a  reputation  akin  to  that  of  the  Grande  Char- 
treuse, or  Schloss  Johannisberger,  among  other  cordials 
or  wines.  Street  artists  mould  midzu  ame  paste,  and 
blow  it  with  a  pipe  into  myriad  fantastic  shapes  for  their 
small  patrons;  while  at  the  greatest  banquets,  and  even 
on  the  Emperor's  table,  it  appears  in  the  farciful  flowers 
that  decorate  every  feast. 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 


CHAPTER  V 

KAMAKURA   AND    ENOSHIMA 

The  contemporary  Yankee  might  anticipate  the  sage 
reflections  of  the  future  New  Zealander  on  London 
Bridge  were  there  left  enough  ruins  of  the  once  great 
city  of  Kamakura  to  sit  upon ;  but  the  military  capital 
of  the  Middle  Ages  has  melted  away  into  rice  fields  and 
millet  patches.  One  must  wrestle  seriously  with  the 
polysyllabic  guide-book  stories  of  the  shoguns,  regents, 
and  heroes  who  made  the  glory  of  Kamakura,  and  at- 
tracted to  it  a  population  of  five  hundred  thousand,  to 
repeople  these  lonely  tracts  with  the  splendid  military 
pageants  of  which  they  were  the  scene. 

The  plain  of  Kamakura  is  a  semicircle,  bounded  by 
hills  and  facing  the  open  Pacific,  the  surf  pounding  on 
its  long  yellow  beach  between  two  noble  promontories. 
The  Dai  Butsu,  the  great  bronze  image  of  Buddha, 
which  has  kept  Kamakura  from  sinking  entirely  into 
obscurity  during  the  centuries  of  its  decay,  stands  in  a 
tiny  valley  a  half-mile  back  from  the  shore.  The  Light 
of  Asia  is  seated  on  the  lotus  flower,  his  head  bent  for- 
ward in  meditation,  his  thumbs  joined,  and  his  face  wear- 
ing an  expression  of  the  most  benignant  calm.  This  is 
one  of  the  few  great  show-pieces  in  Japan  that  is  badly 
placed  and  lacks  a  proper  approach.  Seen,  like  the  tem- 
ple gate-ways  and  pagodas  of  Nikko,  at  the  end  of  a  long 
avenue  of  trees,  or  on  some  height  silhouetted  against 
the  sky,  Dai  Butsu  (Great  Buddha)  would  be  far  more 
imposing.     Within  the  image  is  a  temple  forty-nine  feet 

38 


Kamakura  and  Enoshima 

in  height;  and  through  an  atmosphere  thick  with  incense 
may  be  read  the  chalked  names  of  ambitious  tourists, 
who  have  evaded  the  priests  and  left  their  signatures 
on  the  irregular  bronze  walls.  An  alloy  of  tin  and  a  lit- 
tle gold  is  mingled  with  the  copper,  and  on  the  joined 
thumbs  and  hands,  over  which  visitors  climb  to  sit  for 
their  photographs,  the  bronze  is  polished  enough  to  show 
its  fine  dark  tint.  The  rest  of  the  statue  is  dull  and 
weather-stained,  its  rich  incrustation  disclosing  the  seams 
where  the  huge  sections  were  welded  together. 

A  pretty  landscape-garden,  banks  of  blossoming  plum- 
trees,  and  the  usual  leper  at  the  gate-way  furnish  the  ac- 
customed temple  accessories,  and  Buddha  broods  and 
meditates  serene  in  his  quiet  sanctuary.  The  photo- 
graphic skill  of  the  priest  brings  a  good  revenue  to  the 
temple,  and  a  fund  is  being  slowly  raised  for  building  a 
huge  pavilion  above  the  great  deity,  like  that  which  stood 
there  three  hundred  years  ago.  During  his  six  centuries 
of  holy  contemplation  at  Kamakura,  Dai  Butsu  has  en- 
dured many  disasters.  Earthquakes  have  made  him  nod 
and  sway  on  the  lotus  pedestal,  and  tidal  waves  have 
twice  swept  over  and  destroyed  the  sheltering  temple, 
the  great  weight  and  thickness  of  the  bronze  keeping  the 
statue  itself  unharmed. 

Kamakura  is  historic  ground,  and  each  shrine  has  its 
legends.  The  great  temple  of  Hachiman,  the  God  of 
War,  remains  but  as  a  fragment  of  its  former  self,  the 
buildings  standing  at  the  head  of  a  high  sjtone-embanked 
terrace,  from  which  a  broad  avenue  of  trees  runs  straight 
to  the  sea,  a  mile  and  a  half  away.  Here  are  the  tomb 
of  Yoritomo  and  the  cave  tombs  of  his  faithful  Satsuma 
and  Chosen  Daimios;  and  the  priests  guard  sacredly  the 
sword  of  Yoritomo,  that  of  Hachiman  himself,  the  hel- 
met of  lyeyasu,  and  the  bow  of  lyemitsu. 

In  the  spring,  Kamakura  is  a  delightful  resort,  on 
whose  dazzling  beach  climate  and  weather  are  altogether 

39 


'Jinrikiska  Days  in  Japan 

different  from  those  of  Yokohama  or  Tokio.  In  summer- 
time, the  steady  south  wind,  or  monsoon,  blows  straight 
from  the  ocean,  and  the  pine  grove  between  the  hotel 
and  shore  is  musical  all  day  long  with  the  pensive  sough 
of  its  branches.  In  winter  it  is  open  and  sunny,  and  the 
hot  sea-water  baths,  the  charming  walks  and  sails,  the 
old  temples  and  odd  little  villages,  attract  hosts  of  vis- 
itors. 

On  bright  spring  mornings  men,  women,  and  children 
gather  sea-weed  and  spread  it  to  dry  on  the  sand,  after 
which  it  is  converted  into  food  as  delicate  as  our  Iceland 
moss.  Both  farmers  and  fishermen  glean  this  salty  har- 
vest, and  after  a  storm,  whole  families  collect  the  flotsam 
and  jetsam  of  kelp  and  sea-fronds.  Barelegged  fisher- 
maidens,  with  blue  cotton  kerchiefs  tied  over  their  heads, 
and  baskets  on  their  backs,  roam  along  the  shore  \  chil- 
dren dash  in  and  out  of  the  frothing  waves,  and  babies 
roll  contentedly  in  the  sand ;  men  and  boys  wade  knee- 
deep  in  the  water,  and  are  drenched  by  the  breakers  all 
day  long,  with  the  mercury  below  50°,  in  spite  of  the 
warm,  bright  sun.  Women  separate  the  heaps  of  sea- 
weed, and  at  intervals  regale  their  dripping  lords  with 
cups  of  hot  tea,  bowls  of  rice,  and  shredded  fish.  It  is 
all  so  gay  and  beautiful,  every  one  is  so  merry  and  hap- 
py, that  Kamakura  life  seems  made  up  of  rejoicing  and 
abundance,  with  no  darker  side. 

The  poor  in  Japan  are  very  poor,  getting  comparative 
comfort  out  of  smaller  means  than  any  other  civilized 
people  in  the  world.  A  few  cotton  garments  serve  for 
all  seasons  alike.  The  cold  winds  of  winter  nip  their 
bare  limbs  and  pierce  their  few  thicknesses  of  cloth,  and 
the  fierce  heat  of  summer  torments  them  ;  but  they  en- 
dure these  extremes  with  stoical  good-nature,  and  enjoy 
their  lovely  spring  and  autumn  the  more.  A  thatched 
roof,  a  straw  mat,  and  a  few  cotton  wadded  futons,  or 
comforters,  afford  the  Japanese  laborer  shelter,  furniture, 

40 


Kamakura  and  Enoshima 

and  bedding,  while  rice,  millet,  fish,  and  sea-weed  consti- 
tute his  food.  With  three  crops  a  year  growing  in  his 
fields,  the  poor  farmer  supports  his  family  on  a  patch  of 
land  forty  feet  square  ;  and  with  three  hundred  and  sixty 
varieties  of  food  fish  swimming  in  Japanese  waters,  the 
fisherman  need  not  starve.  Perfect  cleanliness  of  person 
and  surroundings  is  as  much  an  accompaniment  of  pov- 
erty as  of  riches. 

Beyond  Kamakura's  golden  bow  lies  another  beach — 
the  strand  of  Katase,  at  the  end  of  which  rises  Enoshi- 
ma, the  Mont  St.  Michel  of  the  Japanese  coast.  Eno- 
shima is  an  island  at  high  tide,  rising  precipitously  from 
the  sea  on  all  sides  save  to  the  landward,  where  the  preci- 
pice front  is  cleft  with  a  deep  wooded  ravine,  that  runs 
out  into  the  long  tongue  of  sand  connecting  with  the 
shore  at  low  tide. 

Like  every  other  island  of  legendary  fame,  Enoshima 
rose  from  the  sea  in  a  single  night.  Its  tutelary  genius 
is  the  goddess  Benten,  one  of  the  seven  household  dei- 
ties of  good-fortune.  She  is  worshipped  in  temples  and 
shrines  all  over  the  woody  summit  of  the  island,  and  in 
a  deep  cave  opening  from  the  sea.  Shady  paths,  moss- 
grown  terraces,  and  staircases  abound,  and  little  tea- 
houses and  tateba  offer  seats,  cheering  cups  of  tea,  and 
enchanting  views.  The  near  shores,  the  limitless  waters 
of  the  Pacific,  and  the  grand  sweep  of  Odavvara  Bay  afford 
the  finest  setting  for  Fujiyama  anywhere  to  be  enjoyed. 

Enoshima's  crest  is  a  very  Forest  of  Arden,  an  en- 
chanted place  of  lovely  shade.  The  sloping  ravine  which 
gives  access  to  it  holds  only  the  one  street,  or  foot-path, 
lined  with  tea-houses  and  shell-shops,  all  a-flutter  with 
pilgrim  flags  and  banners.  The  shells  are  cut  into  whis- 
tles, spoons,  toys,  ornaments,  and  hair-pins;  and  tiny 
pink  ones  of  a  certain  variety  form  the  petals  of  most 
perfect  cherry  blossoms,  which  are  fastened  to  natural 
branches  and  twigs. 


y/nriktsha  Days  in  yapan 

The  fish  dinners  of  Enoshima  are  famous,  and  the 
Japanese,  who  have  the  genius  of  cookery,  provide  more 
delicious  fish  dishes  than  can  be  named.  At  the  many 
tateba  set  up  in  temple  yards  or  balanced  on  the  edges 
of  precipices,  conch-shells,  filled  with  a  black  stew  like 
terrapin,  simmer  over  charcoal  fires.  This  concoction 
has  a  tempting  smell,  and  the  pilgrims,  who  pick  at  the 
inky  morsels  with  their  chopsticks,  seem  to  enjoy  it ;  but 
in  the  estimation  of  the  foreigner  it  adds  one  more  to 
the  list  of  glutinous,  insipid  preparations  with  which  the 
Japanese  cuisine  abounds.  The  great  marine  curiosity 
of  Enoshima  is  the  giant  crab,  with  its  body  as  large  as 
a  turtle,  and  claws  measuring  ten,  and  even  twelve,  feet 
from  tip  to  tip.  These  crustaceans  are  said  to  prom- 
enade the  beach  at  night,  and  glare  with  phosphorescent 
eyes.  Another  interesting  Japanese  crab,  the  Doryppe 
yaponica.,  comes  more  often  from  the  Inland  Sea.  A 
man's  face  is  distinctly  marked  on  the  back  of  the  shell, 
and,  as  the  legend  avers,  these  creatures  incarnate  the 
souls  of  the  faithful  samurai,  who,  following  the  fortunes 
of  the  Tairo  clan,  were  driven  into  the  sea  by  the  victo- 
rious Minamoto.  At  certain  anniversary  seasons,  well 
known  to  true  believers,  the  spirits  of  these  dead  war- 
riors come  up  from  the  sea  by  thousands  and  meet  to- 
gether on  a  moonlit  beach. 

Enoshima  must  have  become  the  favorite  summer 
resort  of  the  region,  had  not  the  whole  island  been  re- 
served as  an  imperial  demesne  and  site  for  a  sea-shore 
palace.  When  typhoons  rage  or  storms  sweep  in  from  the 
ocean,  billows  ring  the  island  round  with  foam,  spray 
dashes  up  to  the  drooping  foliage  on  the  summit,  the  air 
is  full  of  the  wild  breath  and  wilder  roar  of  the  breakers, 
while  the  very  ground  seems  to  tremble.  The  under- 
ground shrine  of  Benten  is  then  closed  to  worshippers, 
and  looking  down  the  sheer  two  hundred  feet  of  rock, 
one  sees  only  the  whirl  and  rage  of  waters  that  hide  the 


Tokto 

entrance.  When  these  storms  rage,  visitors  are  some- 
times imprisoned  for  days  upon  the  island.  At  low  tide 
and  in  ordinary  seas  Benten's  shrine  is  easily  entered  by 
a  ledge  of  rocks,  the  hard  thing  being  the  climb  up  the 
long  stone  stair-ways  to  the  top  of  the  island  again. 
Guides  are  numerous,  and  an  old  man  or  a  small  boy 
generally  attaches  himself  to  a  company  of  strangers, 
and  is  so  friendly,  polite,  and  amiable,  that,  after  escort- 
ing it  unbidden  round  the  island,  he  generally  wins  his 
cause,  and  is  bidden  to  maru  maru  (go  sight-seeing)  as 
escort  and  interpreter. 


CHAPTER    VI 
TOKIO 

The  first  view  of  Tokio,  like  the  first  view  of  Yoko- 
hama, disappoints  the  traveller.  The  Ginza,  or  main 
business  street,  starting  from  the  bridge  opposite  the 
station,  goes  straight  to  Nihombashi,  the  northern  end 
of  the  Tokaido,  and  the  recognized  centre  of  the  city, 
from  which  all  distances  are  measured.  Most  of  the 
roadway  is  lined  with  conventional  houses  of  foreign 
pattern,  with  their  curb-stones  and  shade-trees,  while  the 
tooting  tram-car  and  the  rattling  basha,  or  light  omnibus, 
emphasize  the  incongruities  of  the  scene.  This  is  not 
the  Yeddo  of  one's  dreams,  nor  yet  is  it  an  Occidental 
city.  Its  stucco  walls,  wooden  columns,  glaring  shop- 
windows,  and  general  air  of  tawdry  imitation  fairly  de- 
press one.  In  so  large  a  city  there  are  many  corners, 
however,  which  the  march  of  improvement  has  not  reach- 
ed, odd,  unexpected,  and  Japanese  enough  to  atone  for 
the  rest. 

43 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

Through  the  heart  of  Tokio  winds  a  broad  spiral  moat, 
encircling  the  palace  in  its  innermost  ring,  and  reaching, 
by  canal  branches,  to  the  river  on  its  outer  lines.  In 
feudal  days  the  Shogun's  castle  occupied  the  inner  ring, 
and  within  the  outer  rings  were  the  yashikis,  or  spread- 
out  houses,  of  his  daimios.  Each  gate-way  and  angle  of 
the  moat  was  defended  by  towers,  and  the  whole  region 
was  an  impregnable  camp.  Every  daimio  in  the  empire 
had  his  yashiki  in  Tokio,  where  he  was  obliged  to  spend 
six  months  of  each  year,  and  in  case  of  war  to  send  his 
family  as  pledges  of  his  loyalty  to  the  Shogun.  The 
Tokaido  and  the  other  great  highways  of  the  empire 
were  always  alive  with  the  trains  of  these  nobles,  and 
from  this  migratory  habit  was  developed  the  passion  for 
travel  and  excursion  that  animates  every  class  of  the 
Japanese  people.  When  the  Emperor  came  up  from 
Kioto  and  made  Tokio  his  capital,  the  Shogun's  palace  be- 
came his  home,  and  all  the  Shogun's  property  reverted  to 
the  crown,  the  yashikis  of  the  daimios  being  confiscated 
for  government  use.  In  the  old  days  the  barrack  build- 
ings surrounding  the  great  rectangle  of  the  yashiki  were 
the  outer  walls,  protected  by  a  small  moat,  and  furnished 
with  ponderous,  gable -roofed  gate-ways,  drawbridges, 
sally-ports,  and  projecting  windows  for  outlooks.  These 
barracks  accommodated  the  samurai,  or  soldiers,  attached 
to  each  daimio,  and  within  their  lines  were  the  parade 
ground  and  archery  range,  the  residence  of  the  noble 
family,  and  the  homes  of  the  artisans  in  his  employ. 
With  the  new  occupation  many  yashiki  buildings  were 
razed  to  the  ground,  and  imposing  edifices  in  foreign 
style  erected  for  government  offices.  A  few  of  the  old 
yashiki  remain  as  barracks,  and  their  white  walls,  resting 
on  black  foundations,  suggest  the  monotonous  street 
views  of  feudal  days.  Other  yashiki  have  fallen  to  baser 
uses,  and  sign-boards  swing  from  their  walls. 

Modern  sanitary  science  has  plucked  up  the  miles  of 


Tokio 

lotus  beds  that  hid  the  triple  moats  in  midsummer. 
From  the  bridges  the  lounger  used  to  overlook  acres  of 
pink  and  white  blossoms  rising  above  the  solid  floors  of 
bluish-green  leaves  ;  but  the  Philistines  could  not  uproot 
the  moats,  which  remain  the  one  perfect  feudal  relic  of 
Japanese  Yeddo.  The  many-angled  gate-ways,  the  mass- 
ive stone  walls,  and  escarpments,  all  moss  and  lichen- 
grown,  and  sloping  from  the  water  with  an  inward  curve, 
are  noble  monuments  of  the  past.  Every  wall  and  em- 
bankment is  crowned  with  crooked,  twisted,  creeping, 
century-old  pines,  that  fling  their  gaunt  arms  wildly  out, 
or  seem  to  grope  along  the  stones.  Here  and  there  on 
the  innermost  rings  of  the  moat  still  rise  picturesque, 
many -gabled  towers,  with  white  walls  and  black  roofs, 
survivors  from  that  earlier  day  when  they  guarded  the 
shiro,  or  citadel,  and  home  of  the  Shogun. 

The  army  is  always  in  evidence  in  Tokio,  and  the  Ut- 
ile soldiers  in  winter  dress  of  dark-blue  cloth,  or  sum- 
mer suits  of  white  duck,  swarm  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  moats.  In  their  splendid  uniforms,  the  dazzling  offi- 
cers, rising  well  in  the  saddle,  trot  by  on  showy  horses. 
On  pleasant  mornings,  shining  companies  of  cavalry  file 
down  the  line  of  the  inner  moat  and  through  the  deep 
bays  of  the  now  dismantled  Cherry-Tree  gate  to  the  Hi- 
biya  parade-ground,  where  they  charge  and  manoeuvre. 
When  it  rains,  the  files  of  mounted  men  look  like  so  many 
cowled  monks,  with  the  peaked  hoods  of  their  great 
coats  drawn  over  their  heads,  and  they  charge,  gallop, 
and  countermarch  through  mud  and  drizzle,  as  if  in  a 
real  campaign.  Taking  the  best  of  the  German,  French, 
Italian",  and  British  military  systems,  with  instructors  of 
all  these  nationalities,  the  Japanese  army  stands  well 
among  modern  fighting  forces.  There  is  a  military  gen- 
ius in  the  people,  and  the  spirit  of  the  old  samurai  has 
leavened  the  nation,  making  the  natty  soldiers  of  to-day 
worthy  the  traditions  of  the  past. 


Jmrtkisha  Days  in  Japan 

A  large  foreign  colony  is  resident  in  Tokio,  the  diplo- 
matic corps,  the  great  numbers  of  missionaries,  and 
those  employed  by  the  Government  in  the  university, 
schools,  and  departments  constituting  a  large  commu- 
nity. The  missionary  settlement  now  holds  the  Tsukiji 
district  near  the  railway  station ;  that  piece  of  made 
ground  along  the  shore  first  ceded  for  the  exclusive  oc- 
cupation of  foreigners.  Besides  being  malarial,  Tsukiji 
was  formerly  the  rag-pickers'  district,  and  its  selection 
was  not  complimentary  to  the  great  powers,  all  of  whose 
legations  have  now  left  it.  To  reside  outside  of  Tsukiji 
was  permitted  to  non-officials  in  extra-territorial  times 
only  when  in  Japanese  employ.  Any  who  chose  to  live 
in  Tokio  were  claimed  as  teachers  by  some  kindly  Jap- 
anese friend,  who  became  responsible  for  the  stranger's 
conduct.  Before  the  revision  of  the  treaties  with  foreign 
powers,  which  compacts  became  operative  July  17,  1899, 
a  foreigner  could  not  go  twenty -five  miles  beyond  a 
treaty-port  without  a  passport  from  the  Japanese  foreign 
office  issued  after  a  personal  application  to  his  legation 
in  Tokio.  Each  place  which  he  wished  tcJ  visit  had  to 
be  named,  and  immediately  upon  his  arrival  at  a  tea- 
house, the  district  policeman  called  for  the  passport  and 
registered  the  stranger.  Any  one  attempting  to  travel 
without  a  passport  was  promptly  escorted  to  the  nearest 
treaty-port.  European  tourists  had  a  formidable  list  of 
rules  of  conduct  which  their  ministers  exhorted  them  to 
observe  —  that  they  should  not  quarrel,  deface  monu- 
ments, destroy  trees  or  shrubs,  break  windows,  or  go  to 
fires  on  horseback.  Th^  American  tourist  was  trusted 
to  behave  without  such  minute  instructions,  and  at  Kobe 
could  visit  the  Kencho  and  ask  a  permit  to  visit  Kioto 
without  the  intervention  of  his  consul — a  recognition  of 
the  freedom  and  independence  of  the  American  citizen, 
and  a  tribute  to  the  individual  sovereignty  of  his  nation, 
concerning  which  a  Japanese  poet  wrote  : 

46 


Tokio 

"What  are  those  strangely-clad  beings 
Who  move  quickly  from  one  spot  of  interest  to  another 
Like  butterflies  flitting  from  flower  to  fiower  ? 

These  are  Amsricans, 
They  are  as  restless  as  the  ocean, 
In  one  day  they  will  learn  more  of  a  city 
Than  an  inhabitant  will  in  a  year. 

Are  they  not  extraordinary  persons  ?" 

All  the  legations  are  now  on  the  high  ground  in  the 
western  part  of  the  city  near  the  castle  moats.  All  lega- 
tion buildings  are  owned  and  kept  up  by  their  respective 
governments.  The  Japanese  Government,  having  offered 
to  give  the  land  if  the  United  States  would  erect  a  per- 
manent legation,  finally  built  and  rented  the  present 
structure  to  the  great  republic  before  it  was  purchased. 

The  English  possess  a  whole  colony  of  buildings  in 
the  midst  of  a  large  walled  park,  affording  offices  and 
residences  for  all  the  staff.  Germany,  Russia,  France, 
and  the  Netherlands  own  handsome  houses  with  grounds. 
The  Chinese  legation  occupied  part  of  an  old  yashiki 
until  a  beautiful  modern  structure  replaced  the  "  spread- 
out-house  "  of  such  picturesqueness,  and  iron  grilles  suc- 
ceeded the  quaint,  old  pea-green  and  vermilion  gateway. 

The  show  places  of  Tokio  are  the  many  government 
museums  at  Uyeno  Park,  the  many  mortuary  temples  of 
the  Tokugawa  Shoguns  at  Shiba  and  Uyeno,  the  popular 
temple  of  Asakusa,  and  the  Shinto  temple  at  the  Kudan, 
with  its  race-course  and  view  of  the  city ;  but  the  Kanda, 
the  Kameido,  the  Hachiman  temples,  many  by -streets 
and  queer  corners,  the  out-door  fairs,  the  peddlers,  and 
shops  give  the  explorer  a  better  understanding  of  the 
life  of  the  people  than  do  the  great  monuments.  Here 
and  there  he  comes  upon  queer  old  nameless  temples 
with  ancient  trees,  stones,  lanterns,  tanks,  and  urns  that 
recall  a  forgotten  day  of  religious  influence,  when  they 
possessed  priests,  revenues,  and  costly  altars. 

47 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

An  army  of  jinrikisha  coolies  waits  for  passengers  at 
the  station,  and  among  them  is  that  Japanese  Mercury, 
the  winged-heeled  Sanjiro,  he  of  the  shaven  crown  and 
gun-hammer  topknot  of  samurai  days.  His  biography 
includes  a  tour  of  Europe  as  the  servant  of  a  Japanese 
official.  On  returning  to  Tokio  he  took  up  the  shafts  of 
his  kuruma  again,  and  is  the  fountain-head  of  local  news 
and  gossip.  He  knows  what  stranger  arrived  yesterday, 
who  gave  dinner  parties,  in  which  tea-house  the  "  man-of- 
war  gentlemen  "  had  a  geisha  dinner,  where  your  friends 
paid  visits,  even  what  they  bought,  and  for  whom  court 
or  legation  carriages  were  sent.  He  tells  you  whose 
house  you  are  passing,  what  great  man  is  in  view,  where 
the  next  matsuri  will  be,  when  the  cherry  blossoms  will 
unfold,  and  what  plays  are  coming  out  at  the  Shintomiza. 
Sanjiro  is  cyclopaedic  at  the  theatre,  and  as  a  temple 
guide  he  exhales  ecclesiastical  lore.  To  take  a  passen- 
ger on  a  round  of  official  calls,  to  and  from  state  balls  or 
a  palace  garden  party,  he  finds  bliss  unalloyed,  and  his 
explanations  pluck  out  the  heart  of  the  mystery  of  Tokio. 
"  Mikado's  mamma,"  prattles  Sanjiro  in  his  baby-Eng- 
lish, as  he  trots  past  the  green  hedge  and  quiet  gate  of 
the  Empress  Dowager's  palace,  and  "  Tenno  Sa?/;"  he 
murmurs,  in  awed  tones,  as  the  lancers  and  outriders  of 
the  Emperor  appear. 

First,  he  carries  the  tourist  to  Shiba,  the  old  monas- 
tery grounds  that  are  now  a  public  park.  Under  the 
shadow  of  century-old  pines  and  cryptomeria  stand  the 
mortuary  temples  of  the  later  Shoguns,  superb  edifices 
ablaze  with  red  and  gold  lacquer,  and  set  with  panels  of 
carved  wood,  splendid  in  color  and  gilding,  the  gold  tre- 
foil of  the  Tokugawas  shining  on  every  ridge-pole  and 
gable.  These  temples  and  tombs  are  lesser  copies  of 
the  magnificent  shrines  at  Nikko,  and  but  for  those  orig- 
inals would  be  unique.  On  a  rainy  day,  the  green  shad- 
ow and  gloom,  the  cawing  of  the  ravens  that  live  in  the 

48 


Tokto 

old  pine-trees,  and  their  slow  flight,  are  solemn  as  death 
itself;  and  the  solitude  of  the  dripping  avenues  and  court- 
yards, broken  only  by  the  droning  priests  at  prayer,  and 
the  musical  vibrations  of  some  bell  or  sweet-voiced  gong, 
invite  a  gentle  melancholy.  On  such  a  day,  the  priests, 
interrupted  in  their  statuesque  repose,  or  their  pensive 
occupation  of  sipping  tea  and  whiffing  tiny  pipes  in  silent 
groups  around  a  brazier,  display  to  visitors  the  altars  and 
ceilings  and  jewelled  walls  with  painstaking  minuteness, 
glad  of  one  ripple  of  excitement  and  one  legitimate  fee. 
Led  by  a  lean,  one-toothed  priest,  you  follow,  stocking- 
footed,  over  lacquer  floors  to  behold  gold  and  bronze, 
lacquer  and  inlaying,  carving  and  color,  golden  images 
sitting  in  golden  shadows,  enshrined  among  golden  lotus 
flowers,  and  sacred  emblems.  In  one  temple  the  clear, 
soft  tones  of  the  bronze  gong,  a  bowl  eighteen  inches  in 
diameter  and  a  little  less  in  depth,  vibrate  on  the  air  for 
three  full  minutes  before  they  die  away. 

Up  mossy  stair-ways,  between  massive  embankments, 
and  through  a  shady  grove,  the  priest's  clogs  scrape 
noisily  to  the  hexagonal  temple,  where  the  ashes  of 
Hidetada,  the  Ni  Dai  Shogun,  lyeyasu's  son,  lie  in  a 
great  gold  lacquer  cylinder,  the  finest  existing  specimen 
of  the  lacquer  of  that  great  art  age.  The  quiet  of  Shiba, 
the  solemn  background  of  giant  trees,  the  deep  shadows 
and  green  twilight  of  the  groves,  the  hundreds  of  stone 
lanterns,  the  ponds  jf  sacred  lotus,  the  succession  of 
dragon-guarded  gate-ways,  and  carved  and  gorgeously- 
colored  walls,  crowd  the  memory  with  lovely  pictures. 
Near  a  hill-top  pagoda  commanding  views  of  the  Bay  and 
of  Fuji,  stands  the  tateba  of  a  cheerful  family,  who  bring 
the  visitor  a  telescope  and  cups  of  cherry-blossom  tea. 

A  colony  of  florists  show  gardens  full  of  wonderful 
plants  and  dwarf-trees,  and  then  Sanjiro  minces,  "I  think 
more  better  we  go  see  more  temples ;"  and  we  go,  spin- 
ning past  the  giant  Shiba  gate  and  up  the  road  to  Atago 

O  49 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

Yaiha,  a  tiny  temple  on  the  edge  of  a  precipitous  hill- 
top, approached  by  men's  stairs,  an  air-line  flight  of  broad 
steps,  and  women's  stairs,  curving  by  broken  flights  of 
easier  slope.  A  leper,  with  scaly,  white  skin  and  hideous 
ulcers,  extends  his  miserable  hand  for  alms,  and  pict- 
uresque, white-clad  pilgrims,  with  staff  and  bell,  go  up 
and  down  those  breathless  flights.  The  tateba,  with  their 
rows  of  lanterns,  where  the  nesans^  offer  tea  of  salted 
cherry  blossoms,  that  unfold  again  into  perfect  flowers 
in  the  bottom  of  the  cup,  overhang  the  precipice  wall, 
and  look  down  upon  the  Shiba  quarter  as  upon  a  relief 
map. 

A  breathless  rush  of  two  miles  or  more  straight  across 
the  city,  past  flying  shops,  beside  the  tooting  tram-way 
and  over  bridges,  and  Sanjiro  runs  into  Uyeno  Park,  with 
its  wide  avenues,  enormous  trees,  and  half -hidden  tem- 
ple roofs.  The  ground  slopes  away  steeply  at  the  left, 
and  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  lies  a  lotus  lake  of  many  acres 
that  is  a  pool  of  blossoms  in  midsummer.  A  temple  and 
a  tiny  tea-house  are  on  an  island  in  the  centre,  and 
around  the  lake  the  race-course  is  overarched  with  cher- 
ry-trees. Great  torii  mark  the  paths  and  stairs  leading 
from  the  shore  to  the  temples  above. 

At  Uydno  are  more  tombs  and  more  sanctuaries,  av- 
enues of  lanterns,  bells,  and  drinking -fountains,  and  a 
black,  bullet-marked  gate-way,  where  the  Yeddo  troops 
made  their  last  stand  before  the  Restoration.  Near  this 
gate-way  is  the  sturdy  young  tree  planted  by  General 
Grant.  Far  back  in  the  park  stand  the  mortuary  tem- 
ples, splendid  monuments  of  Tokugawa  riches  and  pow- 
er, though  the  most  splendid,  here  as  at  Shiba,  have  been 
destroyed  by  fire. 

When  the  Tokio  Fine  Arts  Club  holds  one  of  its  loan 
exhibitions  in  its  Uyeno  Park  house,  Sanjiro  is  inexora- 
ble, deposits  his  fare  at  the  door-way,  shows  the  way  to 
the  ticket  -  ofiice,  and  insists  upon  his  seeing  the  best 

50 


Tokto 

work  of  the  great  artists.  The  noble  club-men  contrib- 
ute specimens  from  their  collections  of  lacquer,  porcelain, 
ivories,  bronzes,  and  kakemonos.  Behind  glass  doors 
hang  kakemonos  by  the  great  artists,  and  Japanese  visit- 
ors gaze  with  reverence  on  the  masterpieces  of  the  Kano 
and  Tosa  schools.  The  great  art  treasures  of  the  empire 
are  sequestrated  in  private  houses  and  godowns,  and  to 
acquire  familiarity  with  them,  to  undertake  an  art  educa- 
tion in  semiannual  instalments  by  grace  of  the  Fine  Arts 
Club,  is  a  discouraging  endeavor.  It  would  be  more 
hopeful  to  seek  the  Boston  Museum  of  Fine  Arts,  the 
British  Museum,  or  Mr.  Walters's  Baltimore  galleries, 
which  contain  an  epitome  of  all  Japanese  art.  At  the 
Tokio  Club,  however,  works  of  Sosen  and  Hokusai,  the 
two  masters  of  the  last  century,  are  often  exhibited. 
Sosen  painted  inimitable  monkeys,  and  connoisseurs  of 
to-day  award  him  the  tardy  fame  which  his  contempora- 
ries failed  to  give.  As  a  rule,  foreigners  prefer  Hokusai 
to  all  other  masters,  and  they  search  old  book-shops  in 
the  hope  of  stumbling  upon  one  of  the  innumerable 
books  illustrated  and  sometimes  engraved  by  this  pro- 
lific genius.  His  genius  never  lacked  recognition,  and  a 
century  ago  all  feudal  Yeddo  went  wild  over  his  New- 
year's  cards,  each  one  a  characteristic  and  unique  bit  of 
landscape,  caricature,  or  fantasy.  His  fourteen  volumes 
of  Mang7va,  or  rough  sketches,  and  his  One  Hundred 
Views  of  Fuji  are  most  celebrated ;  but  wonderfully  clev- 
er are  his  jokes,  his  giants,  dwarfs,  demons,  goblins,  and 
ghosts ;  and  when  he  died,  at  the  age  of  ninety,  he  sighed 
that  he  could  not  live  long  enough  to  paint  something 
which  he  should  himself  esteem.  After  the  visit  to  the 
club  Sanjiro  takes  his  patron  to  the  tomb  of  Hokusai,  in 
a  near-by  temple  yard,  and  shows  the  brushes  hung  up 
by  despairing  and  prayerful  artists,  who  would  follow  his 
immortal  methods. 

East  of  Uyeno  stands  the  great  Asakusa  temple,  shrine 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

of  one  of  the  most  famous  of  the  thirty -three  famous 
Kwannons  of  the  empire,  the  great  place  of  worship  for 
the  masses,  and  the  centre  of  a  Vanity  Fair  unequalled 
elsewhere.  Every  street  leading  to  the  temple  grounds 
is  a  bazaar  and  merry  fair,  and  theatres,  side  shows, 
booths,  and  tents,  and  all  the  devices  to  entrap  the  idle 
and  the  pleasure-seeking,  beset  the  pilgrim  on  his  way 
to  the  sanctuary.  In  florists'  gardens  are  shown  marvels 
of  floriculture,  in  their  ponds  swim  gold-fish  with  won- 
derfully fluted  tails,  and  in  tall  bamboo  cages  perch 
Tosa  chickens  with  tail  feathers  ten  and  twelve  feet 
long.  Menageries  draw  the  wondering  rustics,  and  they 
pay  their  coppers  for  the  privilege  of  toiling  up  a  wood, 
canvas,  and  pasteboard  Fujiyama  to  view  the  vast  plain 
of  the  city  lying  all  around  it,  and  on  timbered  slopes 
enjoy  tobogganing  in  midsummer.  Penetrating  to  the 
real  gate-way,  it  is  found  guarded  by  giant  Nio,  whose 
gratings  are  spotted  with  the  paper  prayers  that  the  wor- 
shipful have  chewed  into  balls  and  reverently  thrown 
there.  If  the  paper  wad  sticks  to  the  grating,  it  is  a  fa- 
vorable omen,  and  the  believer  may  then  turn  the  vener- 
able old  prayer-wheel,  and  farther  on  put  his  shoulder 
to  the  bar,  and  by  one  full  turn  of  the  revolving  library 
of  Buddhist  scriptures  endow  himself  with  all  its  intel- 
lectual treasure. 

The  soaring  roof  of  the  great  temple  is  fitly  shadowed 
by  camphor-trees  and  cryptomeria  that  look  their  centu- 
ries of  age,  and  up  the  broad  flagging  there  passes  the 
ceaseless  train  of  believers.  One  buys  corn  and  feeds 
the  hundreds  of  pigeons,  messengers  of  the  gods,  who 
live  secure  and  petted  by  all  the  crowds  in  the  great  en- 
closure, or  pays  his  penny  to  secure  the  release  of  a  cap- 
tive swallow,  that  flies  back  every  night  to  its  owner. 
At  the  foot  of  the  steps  the  pilgrim  begins  to  pray,  and, 
ascending,  mumbles  his  way  to  the  altar.  The  colossal 
money-box,  which  is  said  to  gather  in  over  a  thousand 


Tokio 

dollars  on  great  holidays,  rings  and  echoes  well  to  the 
fall  of  the  smallest  coin.  The  sides  of  the  temple  are 
open  to  the  air,  and  the  visitor  may  retain  shoes  and 
clogs,  so  that  the  clatter  of  these  wooden  soles,  the  pil- 
grims' clapping  and  mumbling,  mingle  in  one  distracting 
roar. 

Tame  pigeons  fly  in  and  out  through  the  open  walls, 
and  children  chase  each  other  across  the  floor ;  but  be- 
hind the  grating  candles  burn,  bells  tinkle,  priests  chant, 
and  rows  of  absorbed  worshippers  clap,  toss  their  cop- 
pers, and  pray,  oblivious  of  all  their  surroundings. 


CHAPTER   VII 
TOKIO — CONTINUED 


There  are  no  such  holiday-makers  as  the  Japanese. 
The  whole  twelvemonth  is  fete  -  time,  and  the  old  year 
held  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  festivals  and  anniver- 
saries. All  the  great  days  of  the  Chinese  calendar  are 
observed,  and  the  death-day  of  past  sovereigns,  instead 
of  the  birthday ;  while  each  religion,  each  sect,  each  tem- 
ple, and  each  neighborhood  has  its  own  fete  or  matsuri, 
feligious  in  its  origin.  Every  night  different  temple 
grounds  and  different  streets  glow  with  lanterns  and 
torches,  an  out-door  fair  is  in  full  progress,  and  happy, 
laughing,  chattering  men,  women,  and  children  enjoy  it 
all.  The  evening  flower -fairs  are  as  characteristic  and 
picturesque  as  anything  in  Japan.  The  smoke  of  blazing 
flambeaux,  the  smell  of  the  women's  camellia  seed  hair- 
oil,  and  the  mingled  odors  from  booths  and  portable 
restaurants,  are  not  enticing  on  a  hot  night,  but  at  least 
they  offend  in  an  "  artless  Japanese  way." 

The  booths  along  the  whole  length  of  the  Ginza  oflFer 


yifirikisha  Days  m  yapan 

innumerable  odd  notions,  queer  toys,  pretty  hair-pins, 
curios,  and  indescribable  trifles,  every  night  in  the  year. 
The  Japanese  hair-pin,  by-the-bye,  is  a  dangerous  vanity, 
the  babies  often  twisting  themselves  into  the  range  of  its 
point,  and  the  mothers  impaling  them  on  it  in  shaking 
them  up  higher  on  their  backs  and  tightening  the  bands 
that  hold  them.  The  comic  and  ingenious  toys,  em- 
bodying the  simplest  principles  of  mechanics,  and  by  the 
aid  of  a  little  running  water,  or  the  heat  of  a  candle,  per- 
forming wonderful  feats,  are  such  trifles  of  bamboo,  thin 
pme,  paper,  or  straw,  as  American  children  would  destroy 
at  a  touch.  Yet  the  more  truly  civilized  Japanese  little 
people  play  with  them  for  weeks ;  and  they  toddle  home 
with  minute  wicker  cages  of  semi,  or  cicada,  on  one  finger, 
content  to  hang  them  up  and  listen  peaceably  to  the 
strident  captives'  chirping  mi-mi-mi  all  day  long. 

The  first  week  of  March  is  gala  time  for  the  small 
girls  of  Japan,  when  their  Hina  Matsuri,  or  Feast  of  Dolls, 
is  celebrated.  Then  do  toy  shops  and  doll  shops  double 
in  number  and  take  on  dazzling  features,  while  children 
in  gay  holiday  clothes  animate  the  streets.  Little  girls 
with  hair  elaborately  dressed,  tied  with  gold  cords  and 
bright  crape,  and  gowns  and  girdles  of  the  brightest 
colors,  look  like  walking  dolls  themselves.  The  tiniest 
toddler  is  a  quaint  and  comical  figure  in  the  same  long 
gown  and  long  sleeves  as  its  mother,  the  gay-patterned 
kimono,  the  bright  inner  garments  showing  their  edges 
here  and  there,  and  obis  shot  with  gold  threads,  mak- 
ing them  irresistible.  Nothing  could  be  gentler  or  sweet- 
er than  these  Japanese  children,  and  no  place  a  more 
charming  play-ground  for  them.  In  the  houses  of  the 
rich  the  Dolls'  Festival  is  second  only  to  the  New  Year 
in  its  importance.  The  family  don  their  richest  clothing, 
and  keep  open  house  for  the  week.  The  choicest  pict- 
ures and  art  treasures  are  displayed,  and  with  these  the 
hina  or  images  that  have  been  preserved  from  grand- 

54 


Tokio 


THE   SEMIS   CAGK 


mothers'  and  great- grandmothers'  time,  handed  down 
and  added  to  with  the  arrival  of  each  baby  daughter. 
These  dolls,  representing  the  Emperor,  Empress,  nobles, 
and  ladies  of  the  old  Kioto  court,  are  sometimes  num- 
bered by  dozens,  and  are  dressed  in  correct  and  expen- 
sive clothing.     During  the  holiday  the  dolls  are  ranged 


Jt'nrtkisha  Days  in  Japan 

in  a  row  on  a  shelf  like  an  altar  or  dais,  and  food  and 
gifts  are  placed  before  them.  The  tiny  lacquer  tables, 
with  their  rice -bowls,  teapots,  cups,  plates,  and  trays, 
are  miniature  and  exquisite  likenesses  of  the  family  fur- 
nishings. Each  doll  has  at  least  its  own  table  and  dish- 
es, and  often  a  full  set  of  tableware,  with  which  to  enter- 
tain other  dolls,  and  amazing  prices  have  been  paid  for 
sets  of  gold  and  carved  red  lacquer  dishes,  or  these 
Lilliputian  sets  in  wonderful  metal-work.  After  the  fes- 
tival is  over,  the  host  of  dolls  and  their  belongings  are 
put  away  until  the  next  March  ,  and  when  the  beautiful 
images  emerge  from  the  storehouses  after  their  long  hid- 
ing they  are  as  enchanting  as  if  new.  Nothing  better 
illustrates  inherent  Japanese  ideas  of  life  and  enjoyment, 
and  gentleness  of  manners,  than  this  bringing  out  of  all 
the  dolls  for  one  long  fete  week  in  the  year,  and  the 
handing  them  down  from  generation  to  generation. 

On  the  fifth  day  of  the  fifth  month  comes  the  boys' 
holiday.  The  outward  sign  is  a  tall  pole  surmounted 
with  a  ball  of  open  basket-work,  from  which  hang  the 
most  natural-looking  fish  made  of  cloth  or  paper.  Such 
a  pole  is  set  before  every  house  in  which  a  boy  has  been 
born  during  the  year,  or  where  there  are  young  boys, 
and  some  patriarchal  households  display  a  group  of  poles 
and  a  school  of  carp  flying  in  the  air.  These  nobori,  as 
the  paper  carp  are  called,  are  of  course  symbolic,  the 
carp  being  one  of  the  strongest  fish,  stemming  currents, 
mounting  water-falls,  and  attaining  a  great  age.  Many 
of  these  nobori  are  four  or  five  feet  in  length,  and  a  hoop 
holding  the  mouth  open  lets  them  fill  and  float  with  as 
life-like  a  motion  as  if  they  were  flapping  their  fins  in 
their  own  element.  In-doors,  images  and  toys  are  set  out 
in  state  array — miniature  warriors  and  wrestlers,  spears, 
banners,  and  pennants,  and  all  the  decorative  parapher- 
nalia that  once  enriched  a  warrior's  train.  In  all  classes 
children's  parties  and  picnics  prevail.     The  schools  arQ 


Tokio 

given  up  to  out-door  exercises,  and  every  sunny  morning 
processions  of  youngsters  file  by,  with  banners  and  col- 
ored caps  to  distinguish  them,  and  go  to  some  park  ov 
parade-ground  for  exercises,  drills,  and  athletic  games. 

Besides  the  public  schools  maintained  by  Government, 
there  are  scores  of  private  schools  and  mission  schools. 
With  its  higher  institutions  reaching  up  to  the  Imperial 
University,  with  its  special  schools  of  law,  medicine,  en- 
gineering, science,  and  the  arts,  Tokio  offers  the  best 
education  to  the  youth  of  Japan.  The  public-school  sys- 
tem is  the  equal  of  that  of  the  United  States,  and  the 
Government  employs  foreign  teachers  in  even  the  re- 
motest provincial  schools.  At  a  kindergarten  the  aris- 
tocratic pupils,  with  a  repose  of  manner  inherited  from 
generations  of  courtly  and  dignified  ancestors,  trot  in,  in 
their  little  long-sleeved  kimonos,  like  a  Mikado  opera 
company  seen  through  the  wrong  end  of  an  opera-glass, 
sit  down  demurely  around  low  tables,  and  fold  their 
hands  like  so  many  old  men  and  women  of  the  kingdom 
of  Lilliput.  There  is  no  tittering,  no  embarrassment,  nor 
self-consciousness ;  and  these  grave  and  serious  mites 
will  take  the  blocks  from  the  teachers  with  a  reverent 
bow  and  present  them  to  other  children  with  another 
formal  salute,  quite  as  their  grandfathers  might  have 
done  at  court.  In  some  of  the  girls'  schools  the  old 
Japanese  methods  are  followed,  and  they  are  taught  the 
traditional  etiquette  and  the  cha  7io  yu,  to  embroider,  to 
write  poems,  to  arrange  flowers,  and  to  play  the  samisen. 
The  koto,  once  almost  obsolete,  is  restored  to  favor,  and 
girls  delight  to  touch  this  sweet-toned,  horizontal  harp. 

The  great  summer  festival  is  the  opening  of  the  river. 
This  is  the  beginning  of  the  nightly  water  fetes  on  the 
Sumidagawa,  and  in  the  innumerable  tea-houses  that 
line  its  banks.  This  fete,  appointed  for  the  last  week  of 
June,  is  often  postponed  to  the  more  settled  season  of 
July.     Flat-bottomed  house-boats,  with  open  sides,  awn- 

57 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

ings  hung  round  with  lanterns,  and  sturdy  boatmen  at 
either  end  of  the  craft,  go  up  the  river  by  hundreds  and 
thousands  at  sunset,  gliding  out -from  the  creeks  and  ca- 
nals that  everywhere  intersect  the  city.  The  glittering 
fleet  gathers  in  the  broad  stretch  of  stream  lying  between 
the  Asakusa  bashi  and  the  Ryogoku  bashi,  and  these  two 
bridges  are  black  with  spectators.  The  rows  of  tea- 
houses lining  both  shores  spread  red  blankets  over  the 
balcony  railings,  and  hang  row  upon  row  of  lanterns 
along  balustrades  and  eaves.  With  their  rooms  thrown 
wide  open  to  the  water,  they  themselves  look  like  great 
lanterns.  Every  room  of  every  house  has  its  dinner  par- 
ty, the  tea-house  of  the  Thousand  Mats  being  engaged 
months  before  hand,  and  every  maiko  and  geisha  bespo- 
ken. Boats  command  double  prices,  and  nearly  every 
boat  has  its  family  group ;  little  children  in  holiday  dress, 
their  elders  in  fresh  silk,  crape,  gauze,  or  cotton  kimonos, 
sitting  on  the  red  floor-cloth,  each  with  a  tray  of  dolls' 
dishes,  filled  with  the  morsels  of  dainty  things  that  make 
up  a  Japanese  feast,  and  sake  bottles  circulating  freely. 
The  lines  of  lanterns  shed  a  rose-colored  light  over  all ; 
and  at  one  end  a  pretty  maiko  goes  through  her  graceful 
poses,  the  company  keeping  time  with  her  in  rhythmical 
hand  -  clappings.  Peddlers  of  fruit,  candies,  fireworks, 
and  sake ;  performing  jugglers,  acrobats,  and  story-tell- 
ers ;  floating  restaurants,  theatres,  side-shows,  and  boat- 
loads of  musicians  row  in  and  out  among  the  rest.  Talk, 
laughter,  and  the  wailing  notes  of  samisens  fill  the  air 
with  a  hum  that  swells  to  cheers  and  roars  as  the  swift 
rockets  fill  the  air  with  balls,  fountains,  sheaves,  sprays, 
jets,  and  trails  of  light ;  or  fiery  dragons,  wriggling  mon- 
sters, rainbows,  and  waterfalls  shine  out  on  the  dark 
night  sky.  Although  sake  flows  everywhere,  there  is  no 
drunkenness  or  disorder  to  degrade  these  gentle,  cheer- 
ful merry-makers. 

Fires  are  among  the  thrilling  but  picturesque  experi- 
58 


Tokio 

ences  of  city  life,  confined  chiefly  to  the  winter  months. 
The  annual  losses  of  Japan  through  conflagrations  are 
very  great,  and  Tokio  has  been  destroyed  many  times. 
The  flimsy  little  straw-matted,  wooden  houses  are  always 
ready  to  blaze ;  and  if  a  lamp  explodes,  a  brazier  upsets, 
or  a  spark  flies,  the  whole  place  is  in  flames,  which  leap 
from  roof  to  roof  until  the  quarter  is  kindled.  Each  time 
a  burned  district  is  rebuilt  the  streets  are  widened,  a 
measure  which  preserves  property  but  ruins  picturesque- 
ness,  for  the  broad  thoroughfares,  lined  with  low,  un- 
painted  buildings,  make  the  modern  Japanese  city  mo- 
notonous and  uninteresting. 

The  diminutive  Japanese  dwellings,  of  toy-like  con- 
struction, rest  on  corner  posts  set  on  large  rocks,  and 
made  stable  by  their  heavy  roofs  of  mud  and  tiles.  Fires 
are  stemmed  only  by  tearing  down  all  buildings  in  the 
path  of  the  flames,  which  is  done  as  easily  as  a  house  of 
cards  is  overturned.  A  rope,  fastened  to  one  of  the  up- 
right corner  posts,  brings  the  structure  down  with  a  crash, 
while  the  heavy  roof  covers  it  like  an  extinguisher.  The 
ordinary  city  house  or  shop  may  have  twelve  feet  of 
frontage,  and  even  a  second  story  seldom  raises  the  roof 
more  than  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground.  To  hear  of  a 
thousand  houses  being  burned  in  a  night  is  appalling, 
but  a  thousand  of  these  Lilliputian  dwellings  and  their 
microscopic  landscape  gardens  would  not  cover  more 
area  than  two  or  three  blocks  of  a  foreign  city. 

Each  section  or  ward  has  a  high  tower  or  ladder,  with 
a  long  bell,  and  from  this  lookout  the  watchman  gives 
the  alarm  or  the  near  policeman  sounds  the  fire-bell. 
Pandemonium  follows,  for  a  more  excitable  being  than 
the  Japanese  does  not  exist,  and  the  fire-bell's  clang  is 
suggestive  of  many  sad  and  terrible  experiences.  Besides 
the  municipal  fire  brigade  with  their  ladders  and  hand- 
pumps,  each  ward  maintains  private  watchmen  and  fire- 
men.    These  watchmen  roam  their  beats  from  dusk  to 


Jinrtkisha  Days  in  Japan 

daylight,  jingling  the  loose  iron  rings  on  the  tops  of  their 
long  staffs.  Throughout  the  night  the  watchman's  clink- 
ing rings  are  heard  at  half-hour  intervals  or  oftener.  The 
policemen,  on  the  contrary,  go  about  quietly,  lurking  in 
shadow  to  pounce  upon  malefactors ;  and  foreigners,  mis- 
taking the  fire-guardian  for  the  constable,  have  pointed 
many  jokes  at  his  noisy  progress. 

When  the  alarm-bell  clangs,  friends  rush  to  help 
friends  in  saving  their  effects,  and  thieves  make  the 
most  of  the  opportunity.  Blocks  away  from  the  fire 
agitated  people  gather  up  mats,  screens,  bedding,  cloth- 
ing, and  cooking  utensils,  and  hurry  from  the  neighbor- 
hood. Then  does  the  simplicity  of  Japanese  life  justify 
itself.  No  cumbrous  furniture  is  rolled  out,  to  be  broken 
in  the  transit ;  no  tables,  chairs,  or  clumsy  beds  are 
ruined  in  the  saving.  One  small  hand-cart  holds  the 
roll  of  wadded  comforters  and  gowns  that  compose  the 
bedding  of  the  family,  their  clothing,  and  their  few  other 
effects.  The  sliding  paper-screens  are  slipped  from  their 
grooves,  the  thick  straw-mats  are  taken  from  the  floor, 
and  the  household  departs,  leaving  but  the  roof,  corner 
posts,  and  rough  floor  behind  them.  Processions  of  these 
refugees  stream  away  from  the  burning  quarter,  and  the 
heart  of  the  spectator  goes  out  to  the  poor  people,  who, 
with  so  little,  live  so  cheerfully  and  suffer  so  bravely. 

The  emblems  or  rallying  banners  always  carried  by 
native  fire-companies  astonish  foreign  eyes.  Glorified 
drum -majors'  sticks,  gigantic  clubs,  spades,  hearts,  dia- 
monds, balls,  crescents,  stars,  or  puzzles,  are  borne  aloft 
by  the  color-bearer  of  the  detachment,  who  stands  in  the 
midst  of  smoke,  sparks,  and  the  thickest  of  the  hurly- 
burly,  to  show  where  his  company  is  at  work.  Thrilling 
tales  are  told  of  these  Casabiancas  remaining  on.  roofs 
or  among  flames  until  engulfed  in  the  blazing  ruins. 

Sometimes  carpenters  begin  to  build  new  habitations 
on  the  still  smoking  ground,  stepping  gingerly  among 


Tokio 

hot  stones  and  tiles.  The  amazing  quickness  with  which 
Japanese  houses  rise  from  their  ashes  defies  comparison. 
In  twelve  hours  after  a  conflagration  the  little  shop- 
keepers will  resume  business  at  the  old  stand.  Fire  in- 
surance is  not  suited  to  this  country  of  wood  and  straw 
dwellings ;  but  thatched  roofs  are  giving  way  to  tiles  in 
the  cities,  and  brick  is  more  and  more  used  for  walls. 
Stone  is  too  expensive,  and,  in  this  earthquake  country, 
open  to  greater  objections  than  brick.  The  stone  walls 
sometimes  seen  are  a  sham,  the  stones  being  thin  slabs 
nailed  on  the  wooden  framework  of  a  house,  like  tiles  or 
shingles,  to  rattle  down  in  a  harmless  shower  when  the 
earth  heaves  and  rocks.  Steam  fire-engines  are  un- 
known, and  hand-grenades  are  inevitably  forgotten  in 
the  excitement  of  a  conflagration. 

Earthquakes,  though  frequent,  are  fortunately  not  se- 
vere, and  only  one  catastrophe  has  been  suffered  since 
the  convulsions  of  1854  and  1855,  which  the  malcontents 
attributed  to  the  wrath  of  the  gods  at  the  spectacle  of 
foreign  barbarians  entering  the  country.  The  old  myth, 
that  the  earth  —  meaning  the  islands  of  Japan  —  rests 
upon  the  back  of  a  huge  fish,  whose  writhings  cause 
these  disturbances,  places  the  head  of  the  leviathan  be- 
neath Yezo,  its  tail  under  the  southern  island,  and  its 
vital  and  active  body  below  Yokohama  and  Tokio.  Now 
the  Government  has  a  seismologist  on  its  university 
staff,  and  each  tremor  or  palpitation  is  accurately  record- 
ed, the  average  number  reaching  four  hundred  annually. 
Kobe  and  Kioto  seldom  experience  even  the  slightest 
motion,  but  in  the  vicinity  of  the  capital  one  becomes 
fairly  accustomed  to  the  unpleasant  visitation.  A  slight 
disturbance  sets  lamps  and  chandeliers  vibrating;  with 
a  heavier  rock  all  bric-k-brac  not  wired  fast  to  cabinets, 
mantels,  or  tables,  slides  to  the  floor ;  and  a  harder  shock 
loosens  tiles,  wrenches  timbers,  and  sends  brick  chim- 
neys, not  boxed  in  wood  or  sheet-iron,  crashing  through 

6» 


'Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

the  roofs.  A  small  house  rattles  as  if  the  earthquake 
fish  had  come  out  of  the  sea  and  seized  it  as  a  terrier 
does  a  rat.  Pebbles  grate  in  garden  paths,  tall  ever- 
greens snap  their  tops  like  switches,  bells  ring,  clocks 
stop,  and  people  rush  frantically  to  open  spaces  or 
streets. 

The  Japanese  seldom  drink  water,  although  they 
splash,  dabble,  or  soak  in  it  half  the  time ;  yet  men 
who  are  working  m  moats  or  lotus-ponds,  grubbing  out 
the  old  roots  or  stalks,  and  dripping  wet  to  their  waists 
and  shoulders,  will  quit  work  on  rainy  days.  In  Yoko- 
hama harbor,  coolies  who  load  and  unload  lighters,  and 
are  in  and  out  of  water  continually,  often  refuse  to  work 
wlien  a  shower  begins ;  but  a  wet  day  brings  a  new  as- 
pect to  the  streets,  and  fair  weather  has  no  monopoly  of 
picturesqueness.  The  unoccupied  women  with  babies 
tied  on  their  backs,  an  apparently  large  leisure  class,  are 
always  gadding  about  the  town  with  the  aimless  uncon- 
cern of  hens,  taking  no  account  of  the  weather,  and  en- 
joying the  open  air  regardless  of  the  barometer.  Children 
are  equally  indifferent,  and  jinrikisha  coolies,  although 
they  draw  the  hoods  and  tie  their  passengers  in  snug  and 
dry  with  oil-paper  or  rubber  aprons,  trot  along  cheerfully, 
with  their  too  scanty  cotton  garments  more  abbreviated 
than  ever.  They  substitute  for  an  umbrella  a  huge  flat 
straw  plate  of  a  hat,  and  instead  of  putting  on  galoches, 
they  take  off  even  their  straw  sandals  and  run  barefoot- 
ed, tying  up  the  big  toe  with  a  bit  of  rag  or  wisp  of  straw, 
apparently  by  way  of  decoration.  Those  pedestrians  who 
wish  to  be  stately  and  dry-shod  thrust  their  bare  feet 
into  a  half -slipper  arrangement  of  wood  and  oil-paper, 
perched  on  two  wooden  rests  three  inches  high,  adding 
this  cubit  to  their  stature. 

When  the  rain-drops  patter  the  shops  are  a  delight, 

and  the  great  silk  bazaars  of  Echigoya  and  Dai  Maru, 

the  Louvre  and  Bon  Marche  of  Tokio,  are  as  entertain- 

62 


Tokto 

ing  as  a  theatre.  Both  occupy  corners  on  great  thor- 
oughfares, and  have  waving  curtains  of  black  cloth,  with 
crest  and  name  in  white,  as  the  only  wall  or  screen  from 
the  street.  The  one  vast  open  room  of  the  first  story 
is  revealed  at  a  glance.  The  floor  proper  of  this  great 
apartment,  raised  a  foot  and  a  half  from  the  stone  walk 
surrounding  it,  is  covered  with  the  usual  straw -mats, 
the  uniform  glistening  surface  extending  more  than  sixty 
feet  either  way.  Here  and  there  salesmen  and  account- 
ants, the  book-keepers  being  also  cashiers,  sit  at  low 
desks,  where  they  keep  their  sorobans,  money,  and  cu- 
rious ledgers.  There  are  no  shelves  nor  counters,  and 
in  groups  on  the  mats  sit  women  with  beautifully-dressed 
hair,  and  men  in  sober  silk  garments,  inspecting  the 
heaps  of  rainbow  fabrics  strewn  about  them.  Small 
boys  bring  out  arm-loads  and  baskets  of  silks  from  the 
godowns,  for  no  stock  is  ever  in  sight  until  the  purchaser 
asks  for  it.  It  is  etiquette  for  these  small  boys  to  hail 
and  cheer  the  arriving  and  departing  customer,  and  they 
drone  out  some  nasal  chorus.  We  once  lifted  the  street 
curtain  at  Dai  Maru's  on  a  rainy  day  to  find  the  whole 
matted  area  deserted  of  customers.  Immediately  the 
battalion  of  small  boys  sprang  to  their  feet,  and,  deafen- 
ing us  with  a  chanted  canticle,  hurried  to  the  corner 
where  a  steaming  bronze  urn,  various  tea-caddies,  and  a 
shelved  box  full  of  tea-sets  provide  patrons  with  cups  of 
amber- tinted  nectar.  For  an  hour  these  myrmidons  ran 
to  and  fro,  baskets  were  carried  back  and  forth,  and  gold 
brocades  supplied  sunlight  and  rainbows  for  a  gloomy 
day.  All  these  precious  brocades  come  in  lengths  of  four 
and  a  half  yards  for  the  broad  obis  or  sashes  that  are 
one  secret  of  her  looks  in  the  toilet  of  a  Japanese  woman. 
Those  woven  of  silk  alone  are  as  thick  as  leather  and 
soft  as  crape,  and  the  massed  gold  threads,  while  glis- 
tening like  plates  of  chased  metal,  give  stiffness  but  not 
hardness  to  the  fabrics.    When  the  woof  threads  are  left 

63 


yinrikzsha  Days  in  yapan 

in  thick,  shaggy  loops  on  the  under  side,  not  cut  away 
in  any  economical  fashion,  these  are  yesso  nishikis,  the 
choicest  of  all  Japanese  stuffs,  and  valued  from  sixty  to 
one  hundred  and  twenty  dollars  for  the  single  obi  length. 

The  Nakadori  is  a  half-mile-long  street  of  curio  and 
second-hand  shops,  which  just  before  the  New  Year  con- 
tain their  best  bargains,  and  no  one  can  hold  to  the  safe- 
ty of  his  jinrikisha  through  that  straight  and  narrow  path, 
beset  by  every  temptation  of  old  porcelains,  lacquer,  and 
embroideries.  Peddlers  will  gather  from  these  shops  and 
carry  packs  twice  their  own  size,  to  spread  their  con- 
tents out  in  the  room  of  a  customer.  Their  wares  are  so 
tempting  and  cheap  that  the  beholder  cannot  resist  them, 
after  a  reformation  of  prices,  and  that  peddler  who  comes 
twice  has  marked  his  victim  for  his  own.  On  certai*n 
days  of  the  week  a  rag  fair  is  held  on  the  Yanagiwara, 
Vendors  in  rows  half  a  mile  long  sit  under  the  willow- 
trees  on  the  canal  bank,  with  neat  piles  of  old  clothing, 
scraps  of  cloth,  and  ornaments  for  sale.  Between  Shiba 
and  the  railway  station  is  a  rag  alley,  a  Petticoat  Lane  of 
old  clothing,  but  most  of  it  is  foreign  and  unpicturesque, 
even  in  the  flying  glimpses  to  be  caught  from  a  jinrikisha. 

In'  curio-hunting  the  experienced  buyer  invariably  re- 
plies takai,  "too  much,"  to  whatever  price  the  dealer 
names.  If  intent  on  the  bargain  he  may  add  takusan 
iakai,  "altogether  too  much."  Osoroshi  takai,  or  toho- 
moni  takai,  "inexpressibly,  unspeakably  dear,"  some- 
times serves  to  abate  the  price  by  reason  of  the  dealer's 
amazement  at  hearing  those  classic  and  grandiloquent 
words  brought  down  to  common  usage. 

Once  I  visited  the  most  charming  of  old-clothes  shops, 
one  where  theatrical  wardrobes  were  kept ;  but  Sanjiro 
could  not,  or  would  not  remember  it,  and  I  never  re- 
turned. The  shopmen  were  sober  and  serious  automata, 
whose  countenances  were  stolid  and  imperturbable,  and 
one  might  as  well  have  bargained  with  the  high-priest 

64 


Tokio  Flower  Festivals 

for  the  veil  of  the  temple,  as  have  offered  them  less 
than  they  asked.  They  sat,  smoked,  and  cast  indifferent 
glances  at  us  while  baskets  of  gorgeous  raiment  were 
borne  in,  and  affected  to  look  up  the  prices  in  a  book  of 
records.  After  baiting  me  long  enough,  and  bringing 
me  to  raise  my  offer,  the  trio  of  partners  would  sudden- 
ly clap  their  hands,  say  something  in  concert,  and  de- 
liver me  the  article.  It  was  all  as  precisely  ordered  and 
acted  as  a  set  scene  on  the  stage,  and  I  longed  in  vain 
to  assist  at  other  acts  in  the  unique  drama. 


CHAPTER   VIII 
TOKIO    FLOWER    FESTIVALS 


With  all  its  foreign  sophistications,  flower  worship 
has  not  died  out  in  the  Japanese  capital.  The  calendar 
is  divided  into  the  time  of  the  camellia,  the  plum,  the 
cherry,  the  wistaria,  the  lotus,  the  chrysanthemum,  and 
the  maple.  Orange  blossoms  and  tea  blossoms  alone 
are  omitted  among  the  special  flower  festivals,  and  the 
Japanese  as  naturally  refer  to  the  time  of  the  cherry 
blooming  or  of  maple-leaves,  as  we  to  spring  or  autumn. 
They  infuse  into  these  festivals  a  sentiment  and  feeling, 
a  spirit  and  gayety,  inherited  from  generations  of  flower- 
loving  ancestors,  who  made  their  aesthetic  pilgrimages 
year  after  year  to  see  the  acres  of  wonderful  flowers  in 
the  different  suburbs  of  each  city.  By  the  old  calendar, 
the  first  unfolding  of  the  plum-trees,  the  true  awakening 
of  the  seasons,  marked  the  new  year.  In  the  change 
from  the  Chinese  method  of  reckoning  to  the  Gregorian, 
the  Japanese  January  fell  to  a  churlish  mood  of  nature, 
when  only  late  chrysanthemums,  camellias,  and  in-door 

dwarf -trees  can  bloom.     But  every  door -way  is  then 
-  ■  65 


yinrzkzsha  Days  in  japan 

arched  with  evergreens  and  flowers ;  pine  and  bamboo, 
bound  with  braided  straw  ropes,  are  set  before  the 
house;  tassels  of  rice  straw  are  festooned  across  the 
eaves,  and  lanterns  hang  in  rows.  The  emblematic  rice- 
cake,  prawn,  orange,  and  fern- leaf  are  fastened  above 
the  lintel,  the  handsomest  screen  is  brought  forward, 
and  more  emblems  and  a  large  bowl  for  cards  are  set 
out  at  the  entrance.  This  is  the  season  when  all  debts 
are  paid,  while  general  visiting  and  feasting  occupy  three 
days.  Everybody  says  to  everybody  else,  Shinen  ome 
deto,  "I  wish  you  a  happy  New -year;"  or,  Man  zai 
raku,  "  Good  -  luck  for  ten  thousand  years."  Every- 
body sends  his  friend  a  present — a  basket  of  fruit,  or 
a  dumpling  of  red  beans  or  rice  dough,  wrapped  in  cer- 
emonial paper.  The  streets  of  Tokio,  crowded  with 
merrymakers  and  lighted  at  night  by  thousands  of  lan- 
terns and  torches,  hold  out-of-door  fairs  without  number, 
and  from  palace  to  hovel  run  sounds  of  rejoicing;  yet 
this  joyous  homage  to  the  spirit  of  life  is  paid  in  mid- 
winter, when  snow-flakes  may  shroud  the  blooming  ca- 
mellia-trees, though  the  clear,  bright  Indian -summer 
weather  often  lasts  until  after  the  new  year.  Winter,  a 
long  calamity  elsewhere  in  the  same  latitude,  is  only  the 
disagreeable  incident  of  a  few  weeks  in  Central  Japan. 
A  fortnight,  a  month,  of  melting  snows,  cold  rains,  and 
dull  skies,  and  lo !  the  branches  of  the  withered,  old 
black  plum  -  trees  are  starred  with  fragrant  white  flow- 
ers. For  a  few  days  a  hazy  calm  hushes  the  air,  sounds 
are  veiled,  light  is  softened,  and  spring  has  really  come, 
no  matter  how  many  sullen  relapses  it  may  suffer  before 
the  glorious  April  cloud-burst  of  cherry  blossoms  decks 
the  empire  in  wreaths  of  white  and  pink,  and  fills  the 
people  with  joy.  And  this  linked  sweetness  long  drawn 
out,  this  gentle  season'  of  delight,  lasts  from  the  bursting 
of  the  plum  blossoms  in  February  to  the  end  of  the 
nyubai,  or  rainy  season  of  June. 


Tokto  Flower  Festivals 

Beyond  Kameido's  wistaria-bordered  lake  are  ancient 
plum  groves,  whose  trees — old,  gnarled,  twisted,  black, 
and  lichen-covered,  propped  with  poles  and  stone  posts — 
writhe  and  twist  over  the  ground  in  contortions  which 
explain  their  name  —  the  Gwariobai,  or  the  couchant 
dragon-trees.  This  Ume  Yashiki  was  once  the  villa  of 
a  Shogun's  favorite.  Its  buildings,  fences,  and  hedges 
are  gray  with  age,  its  stone  tablets,  moss-grown  and 
something  in  the  hoary  antiquity  of  the  place  subdues 
one's  pulses.  The  long  cry  of  a  hidden  boatman  in  the 
creek  beyond  the  high  camellia  hedge  is  the  only  sound 
that  breaks  the  silence.  People  sit  on  the  red-covered 
benches,  women  in  soft  -  toned  crapes  walk  under  the 
strange  skeleton  shadows  like  moving  figures  of  a  dream, 
and  children  flash  among  the  black  trunks  brilliant  in 
their  gay  garb.  Often  one  sees  visionary  old  men  sit- 
ting lost  in  reverie,  and  murmuring  to  themselves  of 
ume  no  hana  the,  plum  blossom.  They  sip  tea,  they  rap 
out  the  ashes  from  tiny  pipes,  and  slipping  a  writing-case 
from  the  girdle,  unroll  a  scroll  of  paper  and  indite  an  ode 
or  sonnet.  Then,  with  radiant  face  and  cheerful  mutter- 
ing, the  ancient  poet  will  slip  his  toes  into  his  clogs  and 
tie  the  little  slip  to  the  branches  of  the  most  charming 
tree.  The  well  -  bred  spectators  do  not  push  upon  the 
fluttering  scroll,  as  my  impetuous  fellow  -  countrymen 
would  do,  but  with  a  decent  dignity  read  and  criticise 
the  praises  of  the  blossoms  and  the  solemn  stillness  of 
the  old  yashiki. 

The  veriest  Gradgrind  could  not  be  indifferent  to  the 
poetic  charm  of  the  Japanese  spring-time,  wherein  the 
setting  of  the  buds,  their  swelling,  and  the  gradual  un- 
folding of  sakura,  the  cherry  blossoms,  are  matters  of 
great  public  concern,  the  native  newspapers  daily  print- 
ing advance  despatches  from  the  trees.  Even  more  beau- 
tiful than  the  plum-tree  festival  is  the  Tokio  celebration 
of  the  blossoming  of  the  cherry,  and  gayer  than  the  brill- 

69 


yinrtkisha  Days  in  yapan 

iant  throngs  are  the  marvellous  trees.  From  the  wild, 
indigenous  dwarf  seedling  of  the  mountains  have  been 
developed  countless  varieties,  culminating  in  that  which 
bears  the  pink-tinged  double  blossoms  as  large  as  a  hun- 
dred-leafed rose,  covering  every  branch  and  twig  with 
thick  rosettes.  A  faint  fragrance  arises  from  these  sheets 
of  bloom,  but  the  strange  glare  of  pinkish  light  from  their 
fair  canopy  dazzles  and  dizzies  the  beholder.  The  cher- 
ry-blossom Sunday  of  Uyeno  Park  is  a  holiday  of  the 
upper  middle  class.  One  week  later,  the  double  avenue 
of  blossoming  trees,  lining  the  Mukojima  for  a  mile  along 
the  river  bank,  invites  the  lower  classes  to  a  very  differ- 
ent celebration  from  that  of  the  decorous,  well-dressed 
throng  driving,  walking,  picnicking,  and  tea  drinking  un- 
der the  famous  trees.  No  warning  to  keep  off  the  grass 
forbids  their  wandering  at  will  over  the  great  park,  every 
foot  of  whose  ground  is  historic,  whose  trees  are  ancient, 
whose  avenues  are  broad  and  winding,  and  whose  woods 
are  as  dark  as  the  forest  primeval.  Temple  bells  softly 
boom,  ravens  croak,  and  happy  voices  fill  the  air. 

Not  the  Bois,  the  Cascine,  or  the  Thier  Garten  can 
vie  with  Uyeno  on  this  blossom  Sunday.  Down  every 
path  and  avenue  are  vistas  of  flowery  trees,  lofty  and 
wide-spreading  as  vast  oaks  and  elms,  and  through  their 
snowy  branches  shine  thousands  of  other  snowy  branch- 
es, or  countless  solitary  trees  gleaming  against  green 
backgrounds.  The  wide  lotus  lake  below  Uyeno  reflects 
the  white  wonder  that  encircles  the  race-course,  and  the 
temple  roofs  on  the  tiny  islands  are  smothered  in  pink 
branches.  Under  the  great  grove  of  cherry-  trees  tea- 
house benches  are  set  close,  and  there  the  people  lunch 
and  dine  and  sup ;  and  though  sake  flows  freely,  the 
most  confirmed  drinker  is  only  a  little  redder,  a  little 
happier,  a  little  more  loquacious  than  the  rest.  Czars 
and  kaisers  may  well  envy  this  Oriental  ruler,  whose 
subjects  gather  by  thousands,  not  to  throw  bombs  and 


Tokio  Flower  Festivals 

riot  for  bread  or  the  division  of  property,  but  to  fall  in 
love  with  cherry-trees,  and  write  poems  in  their  praise. 
At  the  cherry-blossom  season  especially  his  inborn  pas- 
sion for  flowers  and  landscapes  shows  itself  in  prince, 
poet,  peasant,  merchant,  and  coolie.  Tattered  beggars 
gaze  entranced  at  the  fairy  trees,  and  princes  and  min- 
isters of  state  go  to  visit  the  famous  groves.  Bulletins 
announce,  quite  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  Prince  Sanjo 
or  Count  Ito  has  gone  to  Nara  or  Kioto,  a  three  days' 
journey,  to  see  the  blossoming  trees ;  which  is  as  if  Bis- 
marck or  Gladstone  should  interrupt  his  cares  of  state 
to  undertake  a  pilgrimage  to  a  distant  rose  show. 

Later  in  the  season  the  carefully  tended  trees  in  the 
palace  grounds  put  forth  their  blossoms,  and  sovereign 
and  courtiers  hang  poems  on  their  branches,  while  the 
spring  garden  party  gathers  the  whole  court  circle  under 
the  aisles  of  bloom  in  the  palace  grounds  of  Hama  Rikiu. 
Every  citizen  who  has  a  garden  gives  an  out-door  fete, 
and  flower-bordered  cards  invite  guests  to  see  the  native 
sakura,  or  the  cerisiers  of  the  diplomatic  set. 

The  celebration  of  the  Mukojima,  an  avenue  along 
the  east  bank  of  the  Sumidagawa,  lined  for  more  than 
two  miles  v;ith  double  rows  of  cherry-trees,  belongs  to 
the  lower  ten  thousand.  On  Sunday,  which  is  officially 
a  day  of  rest,  the  water  is  dotted  with  hundreds  of  boats, 
and  solemn  little  policemen  keep  the  holiday-makers 
moving  along  the  shore.  Friends  recognize  each  other 
in  the  crowd  by  some  distinctive  article  of  clothing. 
One  procession  of  jinrikishas  will  land  a  group  with 
heads  tied  up  in  gayly-figured  towels  all  alike,  or  bits  of 
figured  cotton  folded  as  collars  around  the  necks  of  their 
kimonos.  Boat-loads  of  men,  partly  disguised  by  their 
queer  head-dresses,  are  sculled  and  poled  along  the 
banks,  shouting  and  singing,  clapping  and  strumming 
the  samisen,  with  an  entire  abandon  that  is  the  wonder 
and  envy  of  the  Anglo-Saxon.     Every  reveller  has  his 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

sake  gourd,  or  tiny  tub  slung  over  his  shoulder,  which  he 
empties  and  refills,  as  long  as  his  money  and  conscious- 
ness last.  Every  man  offers  friend,  neighbor,  and  stran- 
ger a  cup  of  the  cheering  spirit.  One  booth  in  three  is 
a  sake  stand,  and  pyramids  of  straw-covered  sake  tubs 
stand  before  every  tea-house.  This  sake,  or  rice  brandy, 
tastes  and  looks  like  the  weakest  sherry,  although  it 
scents  the  air  with  alcoholic  fumes.  Made  everywhere 
in  Japan,  the  sake  distilled  from  the  rice  of  the  broad 
Osaka  plain  is  most  esteemed  by  connoisseurs  for  a  pe- 
culiarly delicate  flavor.  As  it  is  the  one  liquor  that  does 
not  improve  with  age,  the  newest  is  the  best,  and  is  kept 
in  wooden  tubs  closed  with  spigots,  and  drawn  off  into 
open-mouthed  porcelain  bottles,  which  are  set  in  hot  wa- 
ter if  warm  sake  is  desired.  The  Japanese  drink  it  from 
little  shallow  porcelain  or  lacquer  cups  that  hold  barely  a 
tablespoonful,  but  by  repetition  they  imbibe  pints.  Its 
first  effect  is  to  loosen  the  tongue  and  limber  the  joints ; 
its  second  to  turn  the  whole  body  a  flaming  red. 

Mukojima's  carnival  rivals  the  saturnalia  of  the  an- 
cients. This  spring  revel  affords  another  resemblance 
between  this  aesthetic  people  and  the  old  Romans,  and 
one  half  expects  to  find  a  flower-crowned  statue  of  Bac- 
chus in  some  lovely  little  landscape  garden  beside  the 
Mukojima.  Men  dance  like  satyrs,  cup  and  gourd  in 
hand,  or,  extending  a  hand,  make  orations  to  the  crowd — 
natural  actors,  orators,  and  pantomimists  every  one  of 
them.  But,  with  all  this  intoxication,  only  glee  and  affec- 
tion manifest  themselves.  No  fighting,  no  rowdyism,  no 
rough  words  accompany  the  spring  saturnalia ;  and  the 
laughter  is  so  infectious,  the  antics  and  figures  so  com- 
ical, that  even  sober  people  seem  to  have  tasted  of  the 
insane  cup.  At  night  lanterns  swing  from  all  the  rows 
of  tea-houses,  booths,  and  fairy  branches,  and  intermina- 
ble Japanese  dinners  are  eaten,  with  beautiful  maiko  and 
geisha  posing  and  gliding,  twanging  the  samisen  and 

74 


i    •            >'ll 

HHSr  1IWI  '^ttPPVIW? 

if,' ' 

J 1 

iT 

f 

*  .       ■                      •< 

* 

Tokio  Flower  Festivals 

tsuziimi  drums,  their  kimonos  embroidered  with  cherry 
blossoms,  hair-pins,  and  coronals  of  blossoms  set  in  the 
butterfly  loops  of  blue  black  hair.  Then  the  rain  comes, 
the  petals  fall,  and  those  snow  storms  not  from  the  skies 
whiten  the  ground. 

For  a  week  in  June,  jinrikishas  spin  up  this  leafy  tun- 
nel to  the  iris  fetes  at  Hori  Kiri,  where  in  ponds  and 
trenches  grow  acres  of  such  fleur-de-lis  as  no  Bourbon 
ever  knew.  Compared  with  the  cherry-blossom  carnival, 
this  festival  is  a  quiet  and  decorous  garden  party,  where 
summer-houses,  hills,  lakes,  armies  of  royal  flowers,  and 
groups  of  visitors  seem  to  be  consciously  arranging  them- 
selves for  decorative  effects. 

After  the  season  opens,  flower  festivals  crowd  one  an- 
other, and  the  miracles  of  Japanese  floriculture  present- 
ly exhaust  the  capacity  of  wonder.  One  of  the  most 
superb  of  their  productions  is  the  botan,  or  tree  peony, 
whose  fringed  and  silken  flowers,  as  large  as  dinner- 
plates,  show  all  delicate  rose  and  lilac  shades,  a  red  that 
is  almost  black,  and  cream,  pale  yellow,  straw  color, 
and  salmon  hues  of  marvellous  beauty.  At  the  Ikegami 
temples,  the  Nichiren  priests  display  with  pride  their 
botan,  now  three  hundred  years  old,  whose  solid  trunk 
and  wrinkled  bark  uphold  a  multitude  of  stately  blos- 
soms. Azaleas,  fire- red,  snow-white,  salmon -pink,  and 
lilac,  crowd  every  garden,  and  the  mountains  and  wild 
river-banks  are  all  ablaze  with  them  in  May. 

Then,  also,  the  wistaria,  the  fitji,  is  in  bloom,  and  at 
the  Kameido  temple  makes  an  eighth  wonder  of  the 
world.  Every  householder  has  his  wistaria  trellis,  gen- 
erally reaching  out  as  a  canopy  over  some  inlet,  or,  as 
at  Kameido,  forming  the  roofs  of  the  open-air  tea-houses 
edging  the  lake.  The  mat  of  leaves  and  blossoms  over- 
head casts  thick,  cool  shadows,  and  the  long,  pendent 
purple  and  white  flowers  are  reflected  in  the  water. 
Blossoms  two  and  even  three  feet  long  are  common,  and 

77 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

only  a  great  swaying  tassel  four  feet  in  length  draws  a 
^^  Naruhodo  r  (wonderful)  from  the  connoisseurs.  Whole 
families  come  to  spend  the  day  on  the  borders  of  the 
little  lake,  sipping  amber  tea,  tossing  mochi  to  the  lazy 
goldfish,  or  sitting  in  picturesque  groups  on  the  low 
platforms  under  the  canopies  of  flowers  fluttering  with 
poems  and  lanterns.  The  temple  is  ancient,  and  the 
grounds  are  full  of  tiny  shrines,  stone  lanterns,  tablets, 
and  images,  and  dwarfed  and  curiously  trained  pine  trees, 
with  a  high,  hump-backed  little  bridge,  over  which,  in  the 
old  days,  only  priests  and  grandees  might  walk.  Golden 
carp,  venerable  old  fellows,  three  or  four  feet  in  length, 
show  an  orange  nose  now  and  then  above  the  surface  of 
the  pond.  The  people  call  these  pets  by  clapping  their 
hands,  and  the  golden  gourmands  swim  from  one  horn 
of  plenty,  filled  with  mochi,  or  rice-cakes,  with  which  they 
are  fed,  to  another.  At  Kasukabe,  on  the  Oshukaido, 
north-east  of  Tokio,  is  the  most  famous  wistaria  in  the 
empire.  The  vine  is  five  hundred  years  old,  with  pen- 
dent blossoms  over  fifty  inches  long,  and  trellises  cov- 
ering a  space  of  four  thousand  feet,  and  thither  poets 
and  pilgrims  reverently  go. 

In  August  occurs  the  one  great  lotus  show  now  seen 
in  Tokio,  when  the  lake  below  Uyeno  Park  shows  acres 
of  bluish -green  plates  of  leaves  starred  with  pink  and 
white  blossoms,  and  the  enchanted  beholder  looks  down 
from  the  bridges  and  tea-houses  of  the  little  islands 
straight  into  the  heart  of  the  great  flowers.  The  castle 
moats  no  longer  show  their  acres  of  lotus,  and  the  mimic 
salutes  no  longer  ring  around  the  citadel,  as  when  those 
myriad  blossoms  of  Buddha  opened  with  a  gentle  noise 
under  the  first  warm  rays  of  the  sun.  There  is  a  lovely 
lotus-pond  back  of  the  Shiba  pagoda,  just  seen  as  the 
jinrikisha  whirls  along  the  shady  avenue  skirting  it,  but 
the  lotus  of  the  moats  was  the  summer  glory  of  Tokio. 
The  flower  was  not  alone  to  blame  for  malarial  exha- 

78 


Tokio  Flotuer  Festivals 

lations,  as  the  contest  still  rages  between  the  two  sides 
of  the  city,  as  to  whether  the  vapors  from  the  moats,  or 
those  from  the  exposed  mud  flats  and  made  ground  of 
the  Tsukiji  section,  are  most  pernicious. 

The  festival  of  the  kiktt,  or  chrysanthemum,  in  autumn, 
decks  the  whole  empire  with  red,  white,  and  yellow  flow- 
ers. The  sixteen-petalled  chrysanthemum  is  the  imperial 
or  government  crest ;  and  the  Emperor's  birthday,  the 
third  of  November,  coming  in  the  height  of  the  season, 
is  made  a  gala-day  in  every  province,  and  the  occasion- 
of  gorgeous  flower  shows.  The  Western  mind  is  filled 
with  envy  to  discover  that  the  wide  -  spreading,  spicy 
flowers  selling  here  for  a  few  coppers  each,  cost  as  many 
dollars  under  new  names  across  the  water.  Dango-zaka, 
dismissed  with  a  line  in  the  guide-book,  is  more  pictu- 
resquely Japanese  in  autumn  than  any  other  suburb  of 
Tokio.  A  community  of  florists  tend,  prune,  dwarf,  and 
cultivate  their  chrysanthemum  plants  in  obscurity  until 
the  blossoming  time  makes  Dango-zaka  a  gay  fair.  The 
unique  productions  of  their  gardens  are  set  pieces  of 
flowers  on  a  gigantic  scale.  Under  matted  sheds,  which 
are  so  many  temporary  stages  without  footlights,  groups 
with  life-sized  figures  are  arranged,  whose  faces  and  hands 
are  of  wax  or  composition,  but  whose  clothes,  the  ac- 
cessories, and  scenery  are  made  of  living  flowers,  trained 
so  closely  over  a  framework  that  the  mechanism  is  not 
even  suspected.  The  plants  forming  the  flower-pieces 
are  taken  up  with  all  their  roots,  wrapped  in  straw  and 
cloths,  propped  up  inside  the  skeleton  framework,  and 
watered  every  day.  The  flowers,  drawn  to  the  outside 
and  woven  into  place,  produce  a  solid  surface  of  color, 
and  are  shaded  with  the  most  natural  effects.  The 
tableaux  represent  scenes  from  history  and  legend,  and 
from  the  latest  plays,  or  even  illustrate  the  last  emo- 
tional crime  of  the.  day.  Here  are  seen  whole  mountain- 
sides of  flowers,  with  water -falls   of  white   blossoms 


spreading  into  floral  streams  ; 
and  chrysanthemum  women 
leading  chrysanthemum 
horses,  ridden  by  chrysanthemum  men  across  chrysan- 
themum bridges.  Gigantic  flowers,  microscopic  flowers, 
plants  of  a  single  blossom,  and  single  plants  of  two  hun- 
dred blossoms,  have  bamboo  tents  to  themselves.  Tout- 
ers  invite  one  to  enter,  proprietors  chant  the  story  of 
their  pictures,  and  the  side-show,  the  juggler,  the  fakir, 
and  the  peddler  make  the  bannered  and  lanterned  lanes 
a  gay  and  innocent  Babel.    All  classes  visit  Dango-zaka, 


TbA-BLOSSOMS 


Tokto  Flower  Festivals 

and  wander  together  up  and  down  its  one  steep  street, 
and  in  and  out  of  the  maze  of  gardens,  paying  a  copper 
or  two  at  each  gate-way.  Giants  and  saintly  images  forty 
and  fifty  feet  high  are  enshrined  in  mat  pavilions  as  lofty 
as  temples,  and  to  these  marvellous  chrysanthemum  creat- 
ures the  phonograph  has  lately  added  its  wonders. 

The  Japanese  listen  politely  when  foreigners  tell  that 
they  have  seen  chrysanthemums  just  as  large  in  Ameri- 
ca. Mere  size  is  not  all  that  they  attempt,  since  these 
wizard  gardeners  can  easily  spread  the  petals  to  any  di- 
ameter they  fancy;  grow  the  chrysanthemum  on  a  stem 
six  feet  or  nine  feet  high  as  easily  as  dwarf  it  to  a 
blooming  mite  two  inches  tall,  growing  in  a  thimble-pot. 
Every  season,  some  new  fantasy  in  petals  is  presented, 
and  the  foliage  of  the  chrysanthemum  is  as  carefully  con- 
sidered as  the  blossom  in  Japan.  With  one  question 
about  the  green  leaves  adorning  the  stem  of  the  foreign 
chrysanthemum,  Dangozaka  people  can  silence  the  brag- 
gart barbarian,  who  usually  has  to  admit  that  no  one 
thinks  of  the  foliage  in  the  West,  and  that  he  himself 
never  noticed  it  before.  The  unkempt,  foliage  of  Chinese 
and  Occidental  chrysanthemums  would  not  be  tolerated 
in  a  Japanese  flower  show,  where  the  leaves  of  the  plant 
must  be  distributed,  the  composition  balanced  according 
to  the  rules  of  flower  arrangement — that  art  beyond  all 
arts,  the  last  to  be  expounded  to  the  Philistines,  who  con- 
sider the  biggest  bunch  the  best  bouquet,  and  for  a  last 
barbaric  touch  introduce  milliners'  bows  of  aniline-dyed 
ribbons  to  their  monstrosities  in  floral  arrangement. 
The  touch  of  Western  vulgarization  is  complete  when  the 
poetic  and  descriptive  names  of  Japanese  chrysanthe- 
mums are  changed  to  suit  the  Western  taste.  The  love- 
ly white  "  Frozen  Moonlight,"  "  Fuji's  Snows,"  "  Dashing 
Spray,"  "  Moonlit  Waves,"  and  "  Hoar  Frost  "  become 
•'the  Mrs.  John  Smith"  or  "the  Mrs.  Peter  Brown." 
The  coolie,  who  draws  the  visitor's  jinrikisha,  is  as»  voluble 

«5 


yihrtkisha  Days  in  yapan 

over  the  flowers  as  any  of  his  patrons,  and  quite  as  dis- 
criminating an  admirer.  Instead  of  stopping  to  rest 
after  his  long  pull  to  that  hilly  suburb,  he  follows  his 
passenger,  pointing  out  beauties  and  marvels,  approving 
and  exclaiming  with  contagious  enthusiasm. 

In  November,  with  the  brilliant  maple-leaves,  the  floral 
year  ends.  The  coquette  sends  her  lover  a  leaf  or  branch 
of  maple  to  signify  that,  like  it,  her  love  has  changed. 
Both  the  tea-plant  and  camellia  are  in  bloom,  but  there 
is  no  rejoicing  in  their  honor,  and  flower -worshippers 
count  the  weeks  until  the  plum  shall  bloom  again. 


CHAPTER    IX 
JAPANESE    HOSPITALITIES 


Among  Japanese  virtues  stands  hospitality,  but,  until 
the  adoption  of  foreign  dress  and  customs  by  the  court 
nobles,  no  Japanese  allowed  his  wife  to  receive  general 
visitors,  or  entertain  mixed  companies.  The  Japanese 
is,  consequently,  a  born  club-man,  and  makes  the  club- 
house a  home.  The  Rokumeikwan,  or  Tokio  Nobles' 
Club,  is  the  most  distinguished  of  these  corporations. 
Its  president  is  an  imperial  prince,  and  its  members 
are  diplomats,  nobles,  officials,  rich  citizens,  and  resi- 
dent foreigners.  The  exquisite  houses  and  gardens  of 
the  smaller,  purely  Japanese  clubs,  are  perfect  specimens 
of  native  architecture,  decoration,  and  landscape  garden- 
ing. By  an  arrangement  of  sliding  screens,  the  houses 
themselves  may  afford  one  large  room  or  be  divided 
into  many  small  ones,  besides  the  tiny  boxes  in  which 
are  celebrated  the  rites  of  cha  no  yu,  or  ceremonial  tea. 

Their  elaborate  dinners,  lasting  for  hours,  with  jug- 


Japanese  Hospitalities 

glers,  dancers,  and  musicians  between  the  courses,  are 
very  costly.  Rich  men  display  a  Russian  prodigality  in 
entertaining,  which  was  even  greater  in  feudal  times. 
A  day  or  two  after  arriving  in  Japan  it  was  my  good- 
fortune  to  be  a  guest  at  one  of  these  unique  entertain- 
ments, given  at  the  Koyokwan,  or  Maple  Leaf  Club- 
house, on  the  hill-side  above  the  Shiba  temples.  We 
arrived  at  three  o'clock,  and  were  met  at  the  door  by  a 
group  of  pretty  nesans,  or  maids  of  the  house,  who,  tak- 
ing off  our  hats  and  shoes,  led  us,  stocking-footed,  down 
a  shining  corridor  and  up-stairs  to  a  long,  low  room, 
usually  divided  into  three  by  screens  of  dull  gold  paper. 
One  whole  side  of  this  beautiful  apartment  was  open  to 
the  garden  beyond  a  railed  balcony  of  polished  cedar, 
and  the  view,  across  the  maple-trees  and  dense  groves 
of  Shiba,  to  the  waters  of  the  Bay  was  enchanting.  The 
decorations  of  the  club-house  repeat  the  maples  that  fill 
the  grounds.  The  wall  screens  are  painted  with  deli- 
cate branches,  the  ramma,  or  panels  above  the  screens, 
are  carved  with  them,  and  in  the  outer  wall  and  balcony- 
rail  are  leaf-shaped  openings.  The  dresses  of  the  pret- 
ty nesans,  the  crape  cushions  on  the  floor,  the  porcelain 
and  lacquer  dishes,  the  sake  bottles  and  their  carved 
stands,  the  fans  and  bon-bons,  all  display  the  maple-leaf. 
In  the  tokonoma,  or  raised  recess  where  the  flower-vase 
and  kakemono,  or  scroll  picture,  are  displayed,  and  that 
small  dais  upon  which  the  Emperor  would  sit  if  he  ever 
came  to  the  house,  hung  a  shadowy  painting,  with  a  sin- 
gle flower  in  a  bronze  vase. 

Before  each  guest  were  set  the  tabako  ban,  a  tray  hold- 
ing a  tiny  hibachi  W\ih  live  coals  lying  in  a  cone  of  ashes, 
and  a  section  of  bamboo  stem  for  an  ash-receiver.  Then 
came  the  tea  and  sweetmeats,  inevitable  prelude  to  all 
good  cheer.  Next  the  nesans  set  in  front  of  each  guest 
an  ozm,  or  table,  not  four  inches  in  height,  on  which 

stood  a  covered  lacquered  bowl  containing  the  first 

87 


Jtnrt'kisha  Days  in  Japan 

course,  a  tiny  cup  of  soy,  or  piquant  bean  sauce,  in 
which  to  dip  morsels  of  food,  and  a  long  envelope  con- 
taining a  pair  of  white  pine  chopsticks.     The  master  of 


the  feast  broke  apart  his  chopsticks,  which  were  whittled 
in  one  piece  and  split  apart  for  only  half  their  length,  to 
show  that  they  were  unused,  and  began  a  nimble  play 
with  them.  In  his  fingers  they  were  enchanted  wands, 
and  did  his  bidding  promptly ;  in  ours  they  wobbled, 
made  x's  in  the  air,  and  deposited  morsels  in  our  laps 


and  upon  the  mats  alternately.  The  nesans  giggled,  and 
the  host  almost  forgot  his  Japanese  decorum,  but  the 
company  patiently  taught  us  how  to  brace  one  chop- 


Japanese  Hospitalities 

stick  firmly  in  the  angle  of  the  thumb  and  against  the 
third  finger.  That  stick  is  immovable,  and  the  other, 
held  like  a  pen  with  the  thumb  and  first  and  second  fin- 
gers, plays  upon  it,  holding  and  letting  go  with  a  sure- 
ness  and  lightness  hardly  attained  with  any  other  im- 
plements. The  supreme  test  of  one's  skill  is  to  lift  and 
hold  an  egg,  the  round  surface  making  a  perfect  balance 
and  firm  hold  necessary,  while  too  much  force  applied 
would  cause  disasters. 


Innumerable  courses  of  dainty  dishes  followed,  accom- 
panied by  cups  of  hot  sakd,  which  our  host  taught  us  to 
drink  as  healths,  offered  by  each  one  of  the  company  to 
the  others  in  turn,  rinsing,  offering,  filling,  and  raising 
the  cup  to  the  forehead  in  salutation,  and  emptying  it 
in  three  prescribed  sips.  Custom  even  requires  one  to 
offer  a  health  to  the  nesans,  which  they  receive  with  a 
modest  and  charming  grace. 

Midway  in  the  feast  three  charming  girls  in  dark 
crape  kimonos,  strewn  with  bright  maple-leaves,  slipped 
the  screens  aside  and  knelt  on  the  mats  with  the  koto, 
samisen,  and  tsuzumi  drum,  on  which  they  played  a  pre- 
lude of  sad,  slow  airs.  Then  the  gilded  panels  disclosed 
a  troop  of  dazzling  maiko  in  soft  blue  kimonos  brocaded 

89 


Jinriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

with  brilliant  maple-leaves  and  broad  obis  of  gold  bro- 
cade, the  loops  of  their  blue -black  hair  thrust  full  of 
golden  flowers,  and  waving  gold  fans  painted  with  gay 
maples.  To  the  melancholy  accompaniment  of  the  geisha, 
they  danced  the  song  of  the  maple-leaf  in  measures  that 
were  only  a  slow  gliding  and  changing  from  one  perfect 
pose  to  another.  Watching  these  radiant  creatures  in 
their  graceful  movements,  we  were  even  deaf  to  the  soft 
booming  of  the  temple  bells  at  the  sunset  hour,  and  the 
answering  croak  of  the  mighty  ravens. 

These  maiko  and  geisha,  professional  dancers  and 
singers,  are  necessary  to  any  entertainment,  and  are 
trained  to  amuse  and  charm  the  guests  with  their  ac- 
complishments, their  wit,  and  sparkling  conversation ; 
lending  that  attraction,  brightness,  and  charm  to  social 
life,  which  wives  and  daughters  are  permitted  to  do  in 
the  Occident.  The  maiko  dances  as  soon  as  she  is  old 
enough  to  be  taught  the  figures  and  to  chant  the  poems 
which  explain  them ;  and  when  she  begins  to  fade,  she 
dons  the  soberer  attire  of  the  geisha,  and,  sitting  on  the 
mats,  plays  the  accompaniments  for  her  successors  and 
pupils.  Until  this  modern  era,  the  geisha  were  the  most 
highly  educated  of  Japanese  women,  and  many  of  them 
made  brilliant  marriages. 

Long  before  the  beautiful  band  had  finished  their 
poem  and  dance  of  the  four  seasons,  twilight  had  fallen. 
Andons,  or  saucers  of  oil,  burning  on  high  stands  inside 
square  paper  lantern  frames,  made  Rembrandtesque  ef- 
fects. Everything  was  lost  in  shadow  but  the  figures  of 
the  maiko  moving  over  the  shining  mats.  One  tiny  girl 
of  thirteen,  belonging  to  the  house,  slipped  in  and  out 
with  a  bronze  box  and  snuffers,  and,  kneeling  before  the 
andons,  opened  the  paper  doors  to  nip  off  bits  of  the 
wicks.  The  child,  a  miniature  beauty,  was  grace  itself, 
gentle  and  shy  as  a  kitten,  blushing  and  quaintly  bowing 
when  addressed. 

9° 


yapanese  Hospitalities 

It  was  six  hours  after  the  entrance  of  the  tabako  bons 
before  the  guests  rose  to  depart.  All  the  troop  of  maid- 
ens escorted  us  to  the  door,  and  after  endless  bows  and 
farewells,  sat  on  the  mats  in  matchless  tableaux,  their 
sweet  sayonaras  ringing  after  us  as  our  jinrikishas  whirl- 
ed us  down  the  dark  avenues  of  Shiba. 

Cha  no  yu  might  well  be  a  religious  rite,  from  the  rev- 
erence with  which  it  is  regarded  by  the  Japanese,  and  a 
knowledge  of  its  forms  is  part  of  the  education  of  a 
member  of  the  highest  classes.  Masters  teach  its  mi- 
nute and  tedious  forms,  and  schools  of  cha  no  yu,  like 
the  sects  of  a  great  faith,  divide  and  differ.  The  cha  no 
yu  ceremony  is  hedged  round  with  the  most  awesome, 
elaborate,  and  exalted  etiquette  of  any  custom  in  polite 
Japanese  life.  Weddings  or  funerals  are  simple  affairs 
by  comparison.  The  cha  no  yu  is  a  complication  of  all 
social  usages,  and  was  perfected  in  the  sixteenth  centu- 
ry, when  it  was  given  its  vogue  by  the  Saogun  Hideyoshi. 
Before  that  it  had  been  the  diversion  of  imperial  abbots, 
monarchs  retired  from  business,  and  other  idle  and  se- 
cluded occupants  of  the  charming  villas  and  monasteries 
around  Kioto.  Hideyoshi,  the  Taiko,  saw  in  its  precise 
forms,  endless  rules,  minutiae,  and  stilted  conventionali- 
ties a  means  of  keeping  his  daimios  from  conspiracies 
and  quarrels  when  they  came  together.  It  was  an  age 
of  buckram  and  behavior,  when  solemnity  constituted 
the  first  rule  of  politeness.  Tea  drinking  was  no  trivial 
incident,  and  time  evidently  had  no  value.  The  daimios 
soon  invested  the  ceremony  with  so  much  luxury  and 
extravagance  that  Hideyoshi  issued  sumptuary  laws,  and 
the  greatest  simplicity  in  accessories  was  enjoined.  The 
bowls  in  which  the  tea  was  made  had  to  be  of  the  plain- 
est earthen-ware,  but  the  votaries  evaded  the  edict  by 
seeking  out  the  oldest  Chinese  or  Korean  bowls,  or  those 
made  by  some  celebrated  potter.     Tea-rooms  were  re- 

9« 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

stricted  to  a  certain  size — six  feet  square ;  the  entrance 
became  a  mere  trap  not  three  feet  high ;  no  servants 
were  permitted  to  assist  the  host,  and  only  four  guests 
might  take  part  in  the  six-hour  or  all-day-long  ceremony. 
The  places  of  the  guests  on  the  mats,  with  relation  to  the 
host,  the  door,  and  the  tokonoma,  or  recess,  were  strictly 
defined.  Even  the  conversation  was  ordered,  the  objects 
in  the  tokonoma  were  to  be  asked  about  at  certain  times, 
and  at  certain  other  times  the  tea -bowl  and  its  accom- 
paniments were  gravely  discussed.  Not  to  speak  of  them 
at  all  would  be  as  great  an  evidence  of  ill  -  breeding  as 
to  refer  to  them  at  the  wrong  time. 

The  masters  of  cha  no  yu  were  revered  above  scholars 
and  poets.  They  became  the  friends  and  intimates  of 
Emperors  and  Shoguns,  were  enriched  and  ennobled,  and 
their  descendants  receive  honors  to  this  day.  Of  the 
great  schools  and  methods  those  of  Senke,  Yabunouchi, 
and  Musanokoji  adhere  most  closely  to  the  original 
forms.  Their  first  great  difference  is  in  the  use  of  the 
inward  or  the  outward  sweep  of  the  hand  in  touching  or 
lifting  the  utensils.  Upon  this  distinction  the  dilettanti 
separated,  and  the  variations  of  the  many  schools  of  to- 
day arose  from  the- original  disagreement.  To  get  some 
insight  into  a  curious  phase  of  Japanese  social  life,  I  took 
lessons  in  cha  no  yu  of  Matsuda,  an  eminent  master  of 
the  art,  presiding  over  the  ceremonial  tea-rooms  of  the 
Hoishigaoka  club-house  in  Tokio. 

There  could  be  no  more  charming  place  in  which  to 
study  the  etiquette  of  tea  drinking,  and  the  master  was 
one  of  those  mellow,  gentle,  gracious  men  of  old  Japan, 
who  are  the  perfect  flower  of  generations  of  culture  and 
refinement  in  that  most  aesthetic  country  of  the  world. 
In  the  afternoon  and  evening  the  Hoishigaoka,  on  the 
apex  of  Sanno  hill,  is  the  resort  of  the  nobles,  scholars, 
and  literary  men,  who  compose  its  membership,  but  in 
the  morning  hours,  it  is  all  dappled  shadow  and  quiet. 


THE  NESANS  AT  THE  HOISHIGAOKA 


The  master  was  much  pleased  at  having  four  foreign  pu- 
pils, and  all  the  hill-side  took  an  interest  in  our  visits. 
We  followed  the  etiquette  strictly,  first  taking  off  our 
shoes — for  one  would  as  soon  think  of  walking  hob- 
nailed across  a  piano -top,  as  of  marring  the  polished 
woods  of  Japanese  corridors,  or  the  fine,  soft  mats  of 
their  rooms  with  heel-marks — and  sitting  on  our  heels, 
as  long  as  our  unaccustomed  and  protesting  muscles 
and  tendons  permitted. 

First,  bringing  in  the  basket  of  selected  charcoal,  with 
its  pretty  twigs  of  charred  azalea  coated  with  lime,  Mat- 

93 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  ^apan 

suda  replenished  the  fire  in  the  square  hearth  in  the 
floor,  dusted  the  edges  with  an  eagle's  feather,  and 
dropped  incense  on  the  coals.  -Then  he  placed  the  iron 
kettle,  filled  with  fresh  water  from  a  porcelain  jar,  over 
the  coals,  and  showed  us  how  to  fold  the  square  of  pur- 
ple silk  and  wipe  each  article  of  the  tea-service,  how  to 
scald  the  bowl,  and  to  rinse  the  bamboo  whisk.  For 
cha  no  yu,  tea-leaves  are  pounded  to  a  fine  powder,  one, 
two,  or  three  spoonfuls  of  this  green  flour  being  put  in 
the  bowl,  as  the  guests  may  prefer  a  weak  or  a  strong 


MATSUDA.  THE  MASTER  OF  CHA  NO   VU 
94 


yapanese  Hospitalities 

decoction.  Boiling  water  is  poured  on  the  powder,  and 
the  mixture  beaten  to  a  froth  with  the  bamboo  whisk. 
This  thick,  green  gruel,  a  real  puree  of  tea,  is  drank  as  a 
loving-cup  in  the  usu  cha  ceremony,  each  one  taking 
three  sips,  wiping  the  edge  of  the  bowl,  and  passing  it 
to  his  neighbor.  The  measures  and  sips  are  so  exact 
that  the  last  one  drains  the  bowl.  Made  from  the  finest 
leaves,  this  beverage  is  so  strong  that  a  prolonged  course 
of  it  would  shatter  any  but  Japanese  nerves. 

It  is  in  the  precise  management  of  each  implement,  in 
each  position  of  the  fingers,  in  the  deliberation  and  cer- 
tainty of  each  movement,  that  the  art  of  cha  no  yu  lies, 
and  its  practice  must  be  kept  up  throughout  the  lifetime 
of  a  devotee.  Even  with  all  the  foreign  fashions,  the  old 
ceremonial  rites  are  as  much  in  vogue  with  the  upper 
classes  as  ever,  and  the  youth  of  both  sexes  are  carefully 
trained  in  their  forms. 

Much  less  pretentious  and  formal  are  the  eel  dinners 
with  which  Japanese  hosts  sometimes  delight  their  for- 
eign friends,  as  well  as  those  of  their  own  nationality. 
Even  Sir  Edwin  Arnold  has  celebrated  the  delights  of 
eels  and  rice  at  the  Golden  Koi,  and  there  are  other 
houses  where  the  delicious  dish  may  be  enjoyed.  When 
one  enters  such  a  tea-house,  he  is  led  to  a  tank  of  squirm- 
ing fresh-water  eels,  and  in  all  seriousness  bidden  to 
point  out  the  object  of  his  preference.  Uncertain  as 
the  lottery  seems,  the  cook,  who  stands  by  with  a  long 
knife  in  hand,  quickly  understands  the  choice  made,  and 
seizing  the  wriggling  victim,  carries  it  off  to  some  sacri- 
ficial block  in  the  kitchen.  An  eel  dinner  begins  with 
eel-soup,  and  black  eels  and  white  eels  succeed  one  an- 
other in  as  many  relays  as  one  may  demand.  The  fish 
are  cut  in  short  sections,  split  and  flattened,  and  broiled 
over  charcoal  fires.  Black  eels,  so  called,  are  a  rich 
dark  brown  in  reality,  and  the  color  is  given  them  by 

9S 


yinrtkiska  Days  in  yapan 

dipping  them  in  soy  before  broiling ;  and  white  eels  are 
the  bits  broiled  without  sauces.  Laid  across  bowls  of 
snowy  rice,  the  eels  make  as  pretty  a  dish  as  can  be 
served  one,  and  many  foreigners  besides  the  appreciative 
English  poet  have  paid  tribute  to  their  excellence.  An 
eel  dinner  in  a  river-bank  tea-house,  with  a  juggler  or  a 
few  maiko  to  enliven  the  waits  between  the  courses,  is 
most  delightful  of  Tokio  feasts. 


CHAPTER   X 
THE  JAPANESE  THEATRE 


"  Saturated  with  the  refinements  of  an  old  civiliza- 
tion," as  Dr.  Dresser  says,  and  possessing  all  other  arts 
in  perfection,  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  Japanese 
drama  should  be  so  well  worthy  of  its  people.  The 
theatre  has  reached  its  present  development  slowly  and 
with  difficulty.  Caste  distinctions  hindered  its  rise, 
actors  ranking  next  the  eta,  or  outcast  class  in  feudal 
days,  and  the  play-houses  of  such  degraded  beings  lying 
under  ban.  Only  the  middle  and  lower  classes  patron- 
ized them,  nobles  never  attending  any  public  exhibitions, 
and  all  women  being  excluded. 

In  the  golden  age  of  the  Tokugawas  the  drama  began 
to  win  recognition  ;  theatres  were  built  by  the  Shogun ; 
the  marionette  shows,  the  first  departure  from  the  No 
Kagura,  gave  way  to  living  actors  and  realism  succeeded. 
In  the  great  social  upheaval  and  rearrangement  of  classes 
following  the  Restoration,  actors  rose  a  little  in  social 
esteem  and  gained  some  rights  of  citizenship.  But  an- 
other quarter  of  a  century  will  hardly  rank  the  dramatic 
with  the  other  arts  and  honor  its  interpreters.  Noble- 
men now  attend  the  theatre,  but  actors  never  receive 
an  invitation  to  their  clubs.     A  few  years  since,  Tokio 

96 


The  Japanese  Theatre 

founded  an  association  for  the  improvement  of  the  the- 
atre, and  the  development  of  the  histrionic  art  of  the 
country  in  its  own  distinctive  way.  Viscount  Hijikata 
and  Viscount  Kawawa  were  elected  president  and  vice- 
president  of  this  Engei  Kyokai,  but  little  is  known  of  its 
actual  work. 

Instead  of  farce  or  recitative  prologue  preceding  the 
play,  come  one  or  two  acts  of  classic  pantomime  or  char- 
acter dance,  or  an  interlude  of  this  kind  in  the  middle 
of  the  drama.  These  classic  pantomimes  resemble  the 
No  Kagura  simplified. 

This  No  dance,  or  lyric  drama,  is  the  dramatic  form  cur- 
rent before  the  seventeenth  century.  Bordering  on  the 
religious,  it  suggests  the  Greek  drama,  and  the  passion 
and  miracle  plays  of  mediaeval  Europe.  Originally,  the 
No  was  the  pantomime  festival  dance  of  the  Shinto  tem- 
ples, fabled  to  have  been  first  performed  by  Suzume  be- 
fore the  cave  of  the  Sun  Goddess.  The  sacred  dance  is 
still  a  temple  ceremonial,  and  the  dances  of  the  Shinto 
priestesses  at  Nikko  and  Nara  are  famous.  In  time  the 
No  became  the  entertainment  of  honor  in  the  yashikis 
of  the  great,  and  princes  and  nobles  took  part  in  the 
solemn  measures  when  greater  princes  were  their  guests. 
To  the  slow  and  stately  movements  of  the  dancers,  and 
their  play  with  fan  and  bells,  dialogue  was  added,  and  an 
exaggeration  of  detail  and  etiquette. 

The  No  is  wholly  artificial,  the  movements  of  the  act- 
ors being  as  stiff,  stilted,  and  measured  as  the  classic 
idiom  in  which  the  dialogue  is  spoken,  and  the  ancient 
and  obsolete  ideographs  which  set  forth  the  synopsis  of 
the  action.  Confined  to  the  yashikis  and  monasteries, 
the  No  was  the  entertainment  of  the  upper  classes,  who 
alone  could  understand  its  involved  and  lofty  diction 
and  intricate  symbolism.  While  the  bare  arguments  of 
plays  and  dances  are  as  familiar  as  fairy  tales  or  folk- 
lore, only  scholars  of  great  attainments  can  read  their 

•  97 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

actual  lines,  and  the  full  translation  of  a  No  programme 
for  the  Duke  of  Edinburgh,  on  his  visit  to  Japan,  busied 
the  interpreters  of  the  British  Legation  for  days,  with 
the  aid  of  all  the  old  native  poets  and  scholars  in  Tokio. 

The  No  is  a  trilogy,  occupying  four  or  five  hours  of 
three  successive  days.  The  first  set  of  scenes  is  to  pro- 
pitiate the  gods ;  the  second  to  terrify  evil  spirits  and 
punish  the  wicked;  and  the  third  to  glorify  the  good, 
beautiful,  and  pleasant.  The  dramatis  personce  are  gods, 
goddesses,  demons,  priests,  warriors,  and  heroes  of  ear- 
ly legend  and  history,  and  much  of  the  action  is  alle- 
gorical. By  a  long  gallery  at  the  left  the  actors  ap- 
proach the  elevated  pavilion  or  platform  of  the  stage, 
which  is  without  curtain  or  scenery,  and  almost  without 
properties.  The  audience  sits  upon  the  matted  area 
surrounding  the  three  sides  of  the  stage.  Flute,  drum, 
and  pipes  play  continuously,  and  a  row  of  men  in  old 
ceremonial  dress  sit  statuesque  at  one  side  of  the  stage, 
chanting  and  wailing  the  explanatory  chorus  throughout 
the  performance.  In  the  great  scenes  the  actors  wear 
masks  of  thin  lacquered  or  gilded  wood,  and  valuable 
collections  of  such  ancient  dance  masks  are  preserved 
in  temples  and  yashikis.  The  costuming  is  superb,  the 
old  brocade  and  cloth  -  of  -  gold  garments  showing  the 
court  costumes  of  centuries  ago,  and  the  great  families 
and  monasteries  hold  their  ancient  No  costumes  as  chief- 
est  treasures. 

The  actors  enter  at  a  gait  that  out-struts  the  most 
exaggerated  stage  stride  ever  seen,  the  body  held  rigid 
as  a  statue,  and  the  foot,  never  wholly  lifted,  sliding  slow- 
ly along  the  polished  floor.  These  buckram  figures,  mov- 
ing with  the  solemnity  of  condemned  men,  utter  their 
lines  like  automata,  not  a  muscle  nor  an  eyelash  moving, 
nor  a  flicker  of  expression  crossing  the  unmasked  coun- 
tenance. Their  tones  are  unspeakably  distressing,  nasal, 
high-pitched,  falsetto  sounds,  and  many  performers  have 


The  Japanese  Theatre 

ruined  and  lost  their  voices,  and  even  burst  blood-ves- 
sels, in  the  long-continued,  unnatural  strain  of  their  reci- 
tatives. The  children  who  take  part  equal  the  oldest 
members  in  their  gravity  and  woodenness.  In  some 
delightful  scenes  the  demons,  with  hideous  masks  and 
abundant  wigs  of  long,  red-silk  hair,  spread  deliberate  and 
conventional  terror  among  the  buckram  grandees,  and, 
stamping  the  stage  wildly,  leaping  and  whirling,  relieve 
the  long-drawn  seriousness  of  the  trilogy.  It  is  only 
when  the  performers  are  without  masks  that  the  scene 
is  recognized  as  intentionally  a  light  and  amusing  farce, 
while  the  roars  of  the  audience  are  elicited  by  stately, 
ponderous^  and  time-honored  puns,  and  plays  upon  words 
that  a  foreigner  cannot  appreciate. 

Fine  representations  of  the.  No  may  be  seen  at  the 
Koyokwan  club-house  in  Tokio,  and  in  the  audiences 
one  beholds  all  the  bureaucracy,  the  court  circles,  and  a 
gathering  of  aristocratic  families  not  elsewhere  to  be  en- 
countered. 

The  existing  theatre  and  the  legitimate  drama  are  not 
yet  three  centuries  old,  and  the  name  shibai,  meaning 
turf  places,  or  grass  plot,  implies  the  same  evolution 
from  out-door  representations  that  the  occidental  drama 
had.  There  is  no  Shakespeare,  nor  Corneille,  nor,  in- 
deed, any  famous  dramatist,  whose  works  survive  from 
an  earlier  day,  to  align  the  stage  with  literature  and 
make  its  history.  Authorship  is  rarely  connected  with 
the  plays,  and  authors'  royalties  are  unknown.  Many 
of  the  novels  of  Baku  have  been  dramatized,  but  most 
often  anonymously.  Plays  are  usually  written  in  the 
simpler  hirakana,  or  running  characters,  in  which  light 
romances  and  books  for  women  are  written,  and  this  fact 
alone  shows  the  esteem  in  which  dramatic  literature 
is  held.  Incidents  in  history,  lives  of  warriors,  heroes, 
and  saints  furnish  themes  for  the  drama,  and  all  the 
common  legends  and  fairy  tales  are  put  upon  the  stage. 


Jtnriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

That  great  classic,  the  affecting  history  of  the  "  Forty- 
seven  Ronins,"  is  always  popular,  and  the  crack-brained 
heroisms  of  the  days  of  chivalry  fire  the  Japanese  heart 
notwithstanding  its  passion  for  the  foreign  and  modern. 
The  trials,  tortures,  and  miracles  of  the  early  days  of 
Buddhism,  and  the  warlike  histories  of  the  great  feudal 
houses,  furnish  tragedies  and  sensational  and  spectacu- 
lar plays  without  end.  There  are,  also,  romantic  melo- 
dramas, emotional  dramas,  and  comedies  of  delicious  hu- 
mor and  satire. 

New  plays,  while  rare,  are  not  theatrical  events,  and 
first  nights  by  no  means  indicate  success  or  failure. 
The  play  is  tried  on  the  audience,  changed,  cut,  and  al- 
tered as  actors,  manager,  scene-painter,  carpenter,  and 
patrons  desire,  without  consideration  of  the  author's 
rights  or  feelings. 

I  once  asked  a  great  star  who  had  written  his  play. 

'*  I  do  not  understand,"  said  the  tragedian  ;  and  a  by- 
stander explained  that  the  manager  had  cut  reports  of  a 
theft,  a  murder,  and  a  shipwreck  from  a  newspaper,  and, 
discussing  them  with  the  star,  evolved  the  outlines  of  a 
connected  play  and  decided  on  the  principal  scenes  and 
effects.  A  hack  writer  was  then  called  in,  who,  under 
dictation,  shaped  the  plot  and  divided  it  into  scenes. 
The  managerial  council  elaborated  it  further,  allotting 
the  parts,  and  the  star  then  composed  his  lines  to  suit 
himself.  In  rehearsal  the  play  was  rounded,  the  diction 
altered,  and  each  actor  directed  to  write  out  his  own 
part,  after  which  a  full  transcript  was  made  for  the 
prompter. 

As  to  the  authorship  of  the  play  of  the  "  Forty-seven 
Ronins,"  he  said :  "  That  is  our  country's  history.  We 
all  know  the  story  of  their  lives  and  glorious  deaths,  and 
many  novelists  and  poets  have  written  of  them." 

"  But  who  made  it  into  a  drama  ?" 

"Oh,  every  theatre  has  its  own  way  of  representing 


The  'Japanese  Theatre 

the  different  scenes,  although  the  great  facts  are  histori- 
cal and  cannot  be  misrepresented,  now  that  the  Toku- 
gawa's  ban  against  the  play  is  removed.  Danjiro  plays 
it  in  one  way,  and  other  actors  have  their  versions,  but 
none  of  them  play  it  the  same  at  every  engagement,  nor 
repeat  just  the  same  acts  on  every  day  of  an  engage- 
ment." 

With  dramatic  authorship  so  vague  and  uncertain,  the 
origin  or  author  of  any  play  is  far  to  seek.  Revivals 
and  rotations  of  the  old  favorites  constitute  a  manager's 
idea  of  attractions,  a  new  scene  or  two,  a  novel  feature, 
and  some  local  picture  or  allusion  being  enough  to  sat- 
isfy the  most  blasi  patron.  No  accurate  libretto  nor 
printed  book  of  the  play  can  thus  exist,  but  the  illus- 
trated programmes  give  a  pictorial  outline  of  it — a  veri- 
table impressionist  .sketch,  noting  its  salient  features, 
and  leaving  all  details  to  time  and  imagination.  There 
are  no  dramatic  unities,  no  three-act  or  five  act  limita- 
tions, and  no  hampering  laws  of  verse  and  rhythm.  An 
orchestra  and  half -concealed  chorus  explains,  heralds, 
and  lauds  the  action,  a  survival  of  the  No  gradually  dis- 
appearing with  other  things  before  the  demand  for 
shorter  hours  and  briefer  plays. 

Women  do  not  appear  on  the  Japanese  stage,  female 
parts  being  played  by  men,  who  often  make  these  roles 
their  specialty,  cultivating  and  using  their  voices  always 
in  a  thin,  high  falsetto.  The  make-up,  the  voices,  gait, 
action,  and  manner  of  some  of  these  actors  are  wonder- 
ful, and  Genoske,  the  greatest  impersonator  of  female 
characters,  when  dressed  for  the  part  of  some  noble  her- 
oine, is  an  ideal  beauty  of  the  delicate,  aristocratic  type. 
Outside  the  great  theatres,  in  plays  and  side-show  enter- 
tainments, that  may  be  compared  with  our  dime  muse- 
ums, a  woman  is  occasionally  found  on  the  stage  ;  and,  a 
few  years  ago,  a  Tokio  manager  amazed  the  town  with 
the  performances  of  a  company  made  up  entirely  of 


Jtnrzkt'sha  Days  in  Japan 

women.  In  the  interludes,  where  jugglers  and  acrobats 
entertain  the  audience,  women  are  sometimes  seen,  and, 
in  time,  plays  will  be  cast  for  both  sexes,  and  female  stars 
will  shine.  The  infant  prodigy  is  known  to  the  Japan- 
ese stage,  and  in  some  wonderfully  pretty  and  affecting 
scenes  in  the  "  Renins  "  little  children  utter  their  lines 
and  go  through  their  parts  with  great  naturalness. 

The  great  theatre  of  Tokio  is  the  Shintomiza,  a  long, 
gabled  building,  ornamented  above  the  row  of  entrance 
doors  by  pictures  of  scenes  from  the  play.  The  street 
is  lined  with  tea-houses,  or  restaurants,  for  a  play  is  not 
a  hap-hazard  two-hour  after-dinner  incident.  A  man 
goes  for  the  day,  carefully  making  up  his  theatre  party 
beforehand,  the  plays  generally  beginning  at  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  ending  at  eight  or  nine  in 
the  evening.  After  a  short  run  the  hours  during  which 
the  great  actors  appear  and  the  great  stage  efifects  are 
made  become  known,  and  the  spectator  may  time  his 
visit  accordingly.  It  is  bad  form  for  a  Japanese  of  posi- 
tion to  go  to  the  theatre  door,  pay  for  a  box,  and  enter 
it.  He  must  send  a  servant,  at  least  a  day  beforehand, 
to  one  of  the  tea-houses  near  the  theatre  to  engage  its 
attentions  for  the  day,  and  through  its  agency  secure  a 
box.  The  tea-house  people  are  the  ticket  speculators  in 
league  with  the  box-office.  At  the  proper  hour,  the  party 
assemble  at  the  tea-house,  and  give  orders  for  the  lunch, 
dinner,  and  frequent  teas  to  be  served  during  the  day. 
The  tea-house  attendants  conduct  them  to  their  box,  and 
at  each  intermission  come  to  see  what  is  wanted,  bring- 
ing in  at  the  dinner-hour  the  large  lacquer  chow  boxes 
with  their  courses  of  viands,  that  their  patrons  may  dine 
comfortably  where  they  sit.  Everybody  smokes,  and 
each  box  has  its  little  tabako  bon,  with  its  cone  of  glow- 
ing coals  to  light  the  tiny  pipes,  the  rat-tat  of  the  pipes, 
as  the  ashes  are  knocked  out,  often  making  a  chorus  to 
the  action. 


The  yapanese  Theatre 

Theatre  buildings  are  light  and  flimsy  wooden  struct- 
ures, with  straw -mats  and  matting  everywhere.  They 
are  all  alike — a  square  auditorium  with  a  sloping  floor, 
a  single  low  gallery,  and  a  stage  the  full  width  of  the 
house.  The  floor  space  is  divided  into  so-called  boxes 
by  low  railings,  that  serve  as  bridges  for  the  occupants 
to  pass  in  and  out.  Visitors  always  sit  on  the  floor,  each 
box  being  six  feet  square  and  designed  for  four  people. 
The  gallery  has  one  row  of  boxes  at  either  side,  several 
rows  facing  the  stage,  and  behind  them  a  pen,  where  the 
multitude  stand  and  listen,  paying  one  or  two  coppers 
for  each  act.  This  gallery  of  the  gods  is  called  the  "deaf 
seat,"  but  the  deaf  hear  well  enough  to  be  vociferous. 
The  theatre-goer  takes  a  check  for  his  shoes,  and  racks 
hanging  full  of  wooden  clogs  are  the  ornaments  of  the 
foyer.  Within  the  building  are  booths  for  the  sale  of 
fruits,  tea,  sweets,  tobacco,  toys,  hair-pins,  photographs 
of  the  stars,  and  other  notions,  so  that  a  box-party  need 
not  leave  the  house  in  pursuit  of  any  creature  comforts. 
The  ventilation  is  too  good,  and  the  light  and  open  con- 
struction invites  wintry  draughts. 

Charges  are  made  in  detail,  and  the  following  is  one 
bill  presented  for  a  party  of  seven  at  a  Yokohama  the- 
atre. No  charge  was  made  for  the  two  family  servants, 
who  came  and  went  at  will. 

Admission  (seven  persons) %    g8 

Box I  60 

Carpeting,  chairs,  etc 50 

Messenger  hire 10 

Tea  and  confectionery 30 

Persimmons,  figs,  and  grapes 30 

Eels  and  rice,  etc.  (seven  persons) 3  50 

Teahouse i  00 

Presents  to  servants 30 

I858 
Received  payment, 

Fukkuya. 

«03 


yinriktsha  Days  in  yapatt 

There  is  always  a  drop-curtain,  generally  ornamented 
with  a  gigantic  character  or  solitary  symbol,  and  often 
nowadays  covered  with  picturesque  advertisements.  For- 
merly, so  much  of  the  play  was  given  by  day  that  no  foot- 
lights and  few  lamps  were  used.  In  those  good  old  days 
a  black-shrouded  mute  hovered  about  each  actor  after 
dark,  holding  out  a  candle  at  the  end  of  a  long  stick  to 
illuminate  his  features,  that  the  audience  might  see  the 
fine  play  of  expression.  With  the  adoption  of  kerosene 
the  stage  was  sufficiently  lighted,  and  the  Shintomiza 
has  a  full  row  of  footlights,  while  the  use  of  electricity 
will  soon  be  general.  The  black  mutes  act  as  "  supers  " 
throughout  all  plays  where  changes  are  made  or  proper- 
ties manoeuvred  while  the  curtain  is  up. 

The  actors  enter  the  stage  by  two  long,  raised  walks 
through  the  auditorium,  so  that  they  seem  to  come  from 
without.  These  raised  walks,  on  a  level  with  the  stage 
and  the  heads  of  the  spectators  in  the  floor  boxes,  are 
called  the  hana  michi,  or  flower-walks,  and  as  a  popular 
actor  advances  his  way  is  strewn  with  flowers.  The  exits 
are  sometimes  by  the  hana  michi  and  sometimes  by  the 
wings,  according  to  the  scene. 

The  miniature  scale  of  things  Japanese  makes  it  pos- 
sible to  fill  a  real  scene  with  life-like  details.  The  stage 
is  always  large  enough  for  three  or  four  actual  houses  to 
be  set  as  a  front.  The  hana  michi  is  sufficiently  broad 
for  jinrikishas,  kagos,  and  pack-horses,  and  with  the  il- 
lumination of  daylight  the  unreality  of  the  picture  van- 
ishes, and  the  spectator  seems  to  be  looking  from  some 
tea-house  balcony  on  an  every-day  street  scene.  Garden, 
forest,  and  landscape  effects  are  made  by  using  potted 
trees,  and  shrubs  uprooted  for  transplanting.  The  ever- 
ready  bamboo  is  at  hand  and  the  tall  dragon-grass,  and 
the  scene-painters  produce  extraordinary  illusions  in  the 
backgrounds  and  wings.  Some  of  the  finest  stage  pict- 
ures I  have  seen  were  in  Japan,  and  its  stage  ghosts, 

I04 


The  Japanese  Theatre 

demons,  and  goblins  would  be  impossible  elsewhere.  In 
the  play  of  "  Honest  Sebi "  there  was  a  murder  scene 
in  a  bamboo  grove  in  a  rainy  twilight  that  neither  Henry 
Irving  nor  Jules  Claretie  could  have  surpassed ;  and  in 
"The  Vampire  Cat  of  the  Nabeshima,"  or  "The  En- 
chanted Cat  of  the  Tokaido,"  a  beautiful  young  woman 
changed,  before  the  eyes  of  the  audience,  to  a  hideous 
monster,  with  a  celerity  more  ghastly  than  that  which 
transforms  Dr.  Jekyll  into  Mr.  Hyde. 

Japanese  theatres  use  the  revolving  stage,  which  has 
been  their  original  and  unique  possession  for  two  centu- 
ries. A  section  of  the  stage  flooring,  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  in  diameter,  revolves  like  a  railway  turn-table,  on 
lignum-vitas  wheels,  moved  by  coolies  below  stairs,  who 
put  their  shoulders  to  projecting  bars,  as  with  the  silk- 
press.  The  wings  come  to  the  edge  of  this  circle,  and 
at  a  signal  a  whole  house  whirls  around  and  shows  its 
other  rooms  or  its  garden.  Sometimes  the  coolies  turn 
too  quickly,  and  the  actors  are  rolled  out  of  sight  gestic- 
ulating and  shouting.  The  scenery  is  painted  on  wings 
that  draw  aside,  or  on  flies  hoisted  overhead.  Curiously 
enough,  the  signal  for  opening  the  curtain  is  the  same  as 
that  used  at  the  Com^die  Fran^aise— -three  blows  on  the 
floor  with  a  big  stick. 

The  Japanese  theatre  of  to-day  is  given  over  to  real- 
ism and  the  natural  school,  and  Jefferson  and  Coquelin 
are  not  more  quietly,  easily,  and  entirely  the  characters 
they  assume  than  Danjiro,  their  Japanese  fellow-Thes- 
pian. The  play  is  a  transcript  of  actual  life,  and  ev- 
erything moves  in  an  every- day  way,  though  Japanese 
manners  and  customs  often  seem  stilted,  artificial,  and 
unnatural  to  the  brusque  Occidental,  with  his  direct  and 
brutally  practical  etiquette.  Pathos  is  always  deep  and 
long  drawn  out,  and  the  last  tear  is  extracted  from  the 
eyes  of  audiences  quick  to  respond  to  emotional  appeals. 
Tragedies  are  very  tragic  and  murders  very  sanguinary. 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

Death  is  generally  accomplished  by  edged  tools,  and  the 
antics  of  the  fencers,  the  wonderful  endurance  of  the 
hacked  victims,  and  the  streams  of  red  paint  and  red  silk 
ravellings  that  ooze  forth  delight  the  audiences,  who 
shout  and  shriek  their  "  Ya!  YaT  and  "  Yeh!  Yehl" 
The  swordsmen  are  often  acrobats  and  jugglers  in  dis- 
guise, who  enliven  the  extended  slaughters  with  thrilling 
tottrs  deforce.  Seppuku  the  honorable  death,  or  hara-kiri 
as  it  is  most  commonly  known,  is  always  received  with 
breathless  interest  and  wild  applause,  and  the  self-dis- 
embowelling of  the  hero,  with  a  long  last  oration,  still 
seems  to  the  Japanese  something  fine  and  heroic  and 
the  most  complete  revenge  upon  an  insulting  foe. 

The  detail  and  minuteness  with  which  everything  is 
explained,  and  the  endless  etiquette  and  circumlocution, 
are  thoroughly  Japanese.  Little  is  left  to  the  imagina- 
tion in  their  dramatic  art,  and  an  ordinary  play  has  more 
sub-plots  and  characters  than  one  of  Dickens's  novels. 
With  the  rapid  adoption  of  new  customs,  the  theatre  is 
becoming  the  only  conserver  of  the  old  life  and  manners. 

If  the  Japanese  stage  has  its  blood-and-thunder  and 
its  tank  drama,  it  has  also  its  millinery  play.  The  cos- 
tumes alone  are  often  worth  going  to  see,  and  the  man- 
agers announce  the  appearance  of  historic  brocades  and 
armor  worthy  of  museums.  Danjiro  owns  and  wears  a 
sacred  coat  of  mail  that  belonged  to  one  of  the  Renins, 
and  his  appearance  in  it  is  the  signal  for  the  maddest 
applause.  Such  treasures  of  costume  and  of  armor  are 
bequeathed  from  father  to  son,  and  from  retiring  star  to 
favorite  pupil.  As  tokens  of  high  approval  rich  and  no- 
ble patrons  send  to  actors  rare  costumes,  swords,  pipes, 
and  articles  of  personal  use.  Excited  spectators  even 
throw  such  tributes  upon  the  stage.  One  approving  for- 
eigner, seeing  the  rain  of  hats,  coats,  obis,  and  tobacco- 
pouches,  once  tossed  his  hat  down.     Later  the  manager 

and  the  actor's  valet  returned  the  hat  and  asked  for  ten 

106 


UA.NJlkO,    IHE   UKKAT    ACIOR 


The  Japanese  Theatre 

dollars,  as  those  seeming  gifts  from  the  audience  were 
merely  pledges  or  forfeits,  to  be  afterwards  redeemed  by 
money  under  the  star's  regular  schedule  of  prices.  As 
protests  availed  nothing,  and  the  whole  house  only  roar- 
ed in  derision  when  he  said  that  he  had  wished  Danjiro 
to  keep  the  battered  derby  as  a  souvenir,  the  enthusiast 
paid  his  forfeit. 

The  audience  is  as  interesting  a  study  as  the  players, 
each  little  square  box  being  another  stage,  whereon  the 
picturesque  drama  of  Japanese  life  is  enacted.  Trays 
of  tea  and  sweetmeats  and  single  teapots  are  constant- 
ly supplied  to  the  spectators  by  attendants,  who  tread 
the  narrow  partition  rails  between  the  boxes  like  acro- 
bats. Whenever  the  curtain  closes  there  is  a  swift  scur- 
rying of  these  Ganymedes  to  the  boxes,  while  the  chil- 
dren climb  upon  the  partition  rails  and  the  hana  michi, 
or  run  about  the  theatre,  even  romping  upon  the  stage 
itself,  and  peeping  under  the  curtain  to  see  what  the 
carpenters  are  hammering;  all  with  perfect  ease  and 
unconsciousness. 

Visiting  the  star  in  his  dressing-room  is  a  simple  com- 
mercial transaction.  The  actors  make  a  fixed  charge 
for  receiving  such  visits,  deriving  a  regular  income  from 
this  source.  Danjiro's  dressing-room  is  high  up  among 
the  flies  back  of  the  Shintomiza  stage,  with  a  window 
looking  down  upon  it,  so  that  he  needs  no  call-boy.  He 
often  shouts  down  to  the  stage  himself,  and  has  the  ac- 
tion of  the  play  delayed  or  hastened,  according  to  his 
toilet  or  his  humors.  Nothing  could  be  more  scornful 
and  indifferent  than  Danjiro's  treatment  of  the  high- 
priced  visitors  to  his  dressing-room.  Fulsome  flattery, 
if  offered  with  the  florid  and  elaborate  Japanese  forms, 
will  mollify  him,  and  the  old  fellow  —  eighth  idolized 
Danjiro  in  succession — will  finally  offer  tea,  present  a 
hair-pin  to  a  lady,  or  write  an  autograph  on  a  fan  in  his 
most  captivating  stage  daimio  manner.  When  making  up 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

for  a  part,  the  great  actor  sits  on  the  mat  before  a  large 
swinging  mirror.  Except  for  a  character  face  little  dis- 
guise is  used,  as  daylight  spoils  its  effect.  Three  or  four 
meek  valets  wait  upon  this  spoiled  and  whimsical  old 
autocrat,  and  the  whole  theatre  staff  attends.  The  value 
of  his  wardrobe,  kept  in  immense  covered  bamboo  bas- 
kets, is  very  great,  and  its  care  a  serious  matter.  Part  of 
it  was  once  stolen,  and  when  the  whole  Tokio  police  force 
succeeded  in  restoring  it  Danjiro  announced  that  he  could 
never  again  wear  what  the  touch  of  a  thief  had  defiled. 

Genoske,  fourth  of  his  name  and  line,  and  Sodanje,  a 
cousin  of  Danjiro,  equally  prove  the  heredity  of  Japan- 
ese genius,  and  are  favorites  of  the  Tokio  public.  Young 
actors  pay  the  great  stars  for  the  privilege  of  joining 
their  companies,  and  studying  their  methods.  Danjiro 
is  said  to  receive  three  thousand  dollars  from  the  Shin- 
tomiza  theatre  for  the  year  or  season,  which  lasts  from 
early  fall  until  after  the  cherry  blossoms.  His  connec- 
tion with  the  Shintomiza  is  like  that  of  a  societaire  with 
the  Comedie  Frangaise.  Yet  he  plays  in  other  Tokio 
theatres,  has  filled  engagements  in  other  cities,  and  ev- 
erywhere receives  from  perquisites,  fees,  and  gifts  more 
than  the  amount  of  his  salary. 

The  Japanese  artist  is  fully  aware  of  the  aid  ingenious 
advertising  may  lend  to  genius.  Drawing-room  engage- 
ments do  not  yet  contribute  a  part  of  the  income  of  a 
great  actor ;  but  such  a  one  was  once  brought  to  drink 
tea  at  a  foreign  house,  and  obligingly  recited  from  his 
great  roles,  and  through  the  interpreter,  talked  most  in- 
terestingly to  us  of  his  art  and  stage  business.  In  a  few 
days  the  native  newspapers,  the  vernacular  press,  as 
the  British  dailies  term  it,  contained  accounts  of  a  great 
entertainment  offered  this  favorite  actor  by  some  foreign 
residents,  and  the  simple  afternoon  tea  of  six  people  was 
lost  to  view  in  the  description  of  the  elaborate  banquet 
and  attending  crowd. 


The  Imperial  Family 

The  Government  exercises  a  certain  censorship  of  the 
stage,  as  of  the  press,  suppressing  an  obnoxious  play,  and 
arresting  manager  and  company  if  necessary.  No  allu- 
sions to  present  political  events  are  allowed,  and  the  au- 
thorities permit  the  expression  of  no  disturbing  ideas. 
The  Tokugawas  exercised  this  censorship  towards  the 
play  of  the  "  Forty-seven  Ronins,"  because  its  main  ar- 
gument and  many  of  its  scenes  reflected  too  clearly  the 
corrupt  practises  of  the  Shogun's  court.  Even  its  name 
was  changed,  and,  until  the  Restoration,  it  was  presented 
as  the  C/iius/iingura  (Loyal  League),  and  the  scenes 
strayed  far  from  historic  fact.  Since  the  new  era,  mana- 
gers advertise  their  representations  as  most  closely  fol- 
lowing the  actual  records,  and  every  fresh  contribution 
from  historian  or  antiquarian  is  availed  of. 


CHAPTER    XI 
THE    IMPERIAL    FAMILY 


European  sovereigns  and  reigning  families  are  par- 
venus compared  to  the  ruler  and  the  imperial  house  of 
Japan,  which  shows  an  unbroken  line  from  the  accession 
of  Jimmu  Tenno,  the  first  Emperor  in  660  B.C.,  down  to 
the  present  son  of  Heaven,  Mutsu  Hito,  one  hundred 
and  twenty-first  Emperor  of  his  line. 

During  the  feudal  period,  the  Emperors,  virtually  pris- 
oners of  their  vassals,  the  Shoguns,  lived  and  died  within 
the  yellow  palace  walls  of  Kioto,  knowing  nothing  of 
their  subjects,  and  unknown  by  them.  After  death,  each 
was  deified  under  a  posthumous  appellation,  and  there 
his  history  ceased.  Too  sacred  a  being  to  be  spoken  of 
by  his  personal  name,  at  the  mention  of  his  title  all  Jap>- 
anese  make  an  unconscious  reverence  even  now.    When 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

his  patronymic  was  written,  it  was  purposely  left  incom- 
plete by  the  omission  of  one  stroke  of  the  writing-brush. 
In  the  spoken  language,  the  ruler  is  the  Shujo,  the  Hei- 
ka,  or  the  Tenno,  while  in  the  written  language  he  is  the 
Tenno,  the  Kotei,  or  the  Mikado.  The  Empress  is  the 
Kogo  in  both  the  spoken  and  the  written  language,  and 
the  honorific  sama  follows  all  of  these  imperial  appella- 
tions. 

Mutsu  Hito,  the  most  significant  figure  in  Japanese 
history,  was  born  in  the  Kioto  palace,  November  3,  1852, 
and,  taught  and  trained  as  imperial  princes  had  been  be- 
fore him,  succeeded  to  the  throne  after  the  death  of  his 
father,  February  13,  1867.  In  the  following  autumn  the 
Shogun  sent  in  his  formal  resignation,  gave  back  the  su- 
preme power  to  the  rightful  ruler,  and  retired  to  Osaka. 
In  February,  1868,  the  Emperor,  not  yet  sixteen  years  of 
age,  received  the  foreign  envoys  in  the  Kioto  palace  with 
uncovered  face;  then, defeating  the  rebellious  Shogun  at 
Osaka,  removed  his  capital  to  Yeddo,  and  chose  the  name 
Meiji  (enlightenment),  to  designate  the  era  of  his  reign. 

As  seen  at  the  rare  court  functions,  at  military  reviews, 
and  races,  the  Emperor  is  easily  the  central  figure.  Tall- 
er than  the  average  of  his  race,  and  possessing  great  dig- 
nity and  majesty,  his  slow,  military  step  and  trailing 
sword  effectually  conceal  the  unequal  gait  rheumatism 
sometimes  obliges.  He  wears  a  trimmed  beard,  and  his 
features,  more  decided  and  strongly  marked  than  is  usual 
with  the  aristocratic  type  of  Japanese  countenance,  wear 
a  calm  and  composure  as  truly  Oriental  as  imperial.  In 
public  he  wears  the  uniform  of  generalissimo  of  the  army, 
a  heavily-frogged  and  braided  one  of  dark-blue  broad- 
cloth in  winter,  and  of  white  duck  in  summer,  with  a 
gold-mounted  sword  and  many  decorations.  In  recog- 
nition of  the  honors  and  orders  conferred  upon  him  by 
other  royalties,  the  Emperor  bestows  the  cordon  and 
jewel  of  the  princely  Order  of  the  Chrysanthemum.    The 


The  Imperial  Family 

Order  of  the  Rising  Sun  is  given  for  merit  and  distin- 
guished services,  and  its  red  button  is  worn  by  many  for- 
eigners as  well  as  natives. 

Of  late,  the  Emperor  has  abandoned  his  attempts  to 
learn  English  and  German,  and  relies  upon  interpreters, 
but  he  reads  translations  of  foreign  literature  with  great 
interest.  When  he  passes  through  the  streets,  he  is  re- 
ceived with  silent  reverence,  an  advance  guard  of  police 
and  a  body-guard  of  lancers  escorting  him.  While  his 
own  people  never  shout  or  cheer,  he  accepts  very  gra- 
ciously the  foreign  custom,  and  bows  an  acknowledg- 
ment to  the  hurrahs  that  sometimes  greet  him  at  Yoko- 
hama. While  the  Emperor  has  been  absorbed  in  the 
changing  affairs  of  state  during  the  two  decades  of  his 
reign,  he  still  seems,  in  comparison  with  European  sov- 
ereigns, to  dwell  in  absolute  quiet  and  seclusion.  Often, 
for  weeks  together,  he  remains  within  the  palace  grounds, 
where  he  has  riding  courts,  archery,  and  rifle  ranges,  well- 
stocked  fish-ponds,  and  every  means  of  amusing  himself. 
Disliking  the  sea,  he  has  no  yacht,  a  chartered  mail- 
steamer  or  man-of-war  carrying  him  to  naval  stations  or 
new  fortifications,  when  the  railroad  is  impracticable. 
His  mountain  palaces  and  remote  game  preserves  he 
never  visits. 

Immediately  after  establishing  his  court  at  Yeddo, 
the  boy -Emperor  returned  to  Kioto  to  wed  Haruko, 
daughter  of  Ichijo  Takada,  a  kuge,  or  court  noble  of  the 
highest  rank.  The  marriage  was  solemnized  by  some 
Shinto  ceremony  within  the  temple  of  the  palace,  a  cer- 
emony so  sacred  and  private  that  no  Japanese  even  con- 
jectures its  form. 

The  Empress  Haruko,  bom  May  29,  1850,  was  edu- 
cated in  the  strictest  conventions  of  old  Japan,  and 
taught  only  the  Chinese  classics,  her  own  literature  and 
poetic  composition,  the  use  of  the  koto,  the  forms  of 
cha  no  yu,  needle-work,  and  the  arrangement  of  flowers 


'yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

— a  broad  and  most  liberal  education  for  a  maiden  even 
of  high  degree. 

Upon  her  marriage,  an  extraordinary  life  opened  be- 
fore the  little  Empress,  demanding  a  very  unusual  ac- 
tivity and  study,  courage,  adaptiveness,  and  comprehen- 
sion. She  is  poetic  as  well  as  practical,  and  her  poems 
are  not  only  traced  on  imperial  screens  and  kakemono 
in  autograph  characters,  but  several  of  them  have  been 
set  to  music  as  well. 

Even  now,  her  Majesty  is  more  delicately  pretty  than 
her  younger  sisters,  although  for  years  an  invalid.  She 
is  short  in  stature,  slender,  and  small,  with  the  long,  oval 
face  and  refined  features  of  the  ideal  aristocratic  type  of 
Japanese  beauty.  At  her  marriage,  she  shaved  her  eye- 
brows, painted  two  shadowy  suggestions  of  them  high 
up  on  her  forehead,  and  blackened  her  teeth,  in  accord- 
ance with  Japanese  custom  ;  but  after  a  few  years,  she 
ceased  to  disfigure  herself  in  this  way.  It  was  an  event, 
in  1873,  when  she  gave  her  first  audience  to  the  envoys' 
wives.  It  cost  the  court  chamberlains  months  of  study 
to  arrange  for  the  appearance  of  the  Emperor  and  Em- 
press together,  to  reconcile  the  pretensions  of  their  suites 
as  to  rank  and  precedence,  and  to  harmonize  the  Occi- 
dental, chivalrous  ideas  of  deference  to  women  with  the 
unflattering  estimate  of  the  Orient.  When,  on  the  day 
of  the  declaration  of  the  new  constitution  (February  1 1, 
1890),  the  Emperor  and  Empress  rode  side  by  side  in 
the  same  state  carriage  through  the  streets  of  Tokio, 
and  when,  that  night,  he  offered  his  arm  to  lead  her  to 
a  twin  arm-chair  in  the  state  dining-hall,  a  new  era  was 
begun  in  Japanese  history. 

The  Empress  has  her  secretaries  and  readers,  and 
gives  a  part  of  each  day  to  informal  audiences.  She 
visits  her  schools  and  hospitals,  and  makes  liberal  pur- 
chases at  charity  bazaars.  She  exercises  in  the  saddle 
within  the  palace  grounds,  and  drives  in  a  brougham 


The  Imperial  Family 

with  half-drawn  curtains,  her  men  on  the  box  wearing  a 
dark-blue  livery  with  red  cords  and  facings,  silver  but- 
tons, and  cocked  hats. 


Mr*^- 


! 

:  \ 

j 

Hij 

-^=^^ 


mxi  ^' 


m 


k  '\ 


IN   THE  PALACE  GARDENS 


\ 


One  of  the  two 
annual  imperial  gar- 
den-parties is  given 
when  the  chrysan- 
themums are  in 
bloom,  and  the  oth- 
er at  the  time  of 
the  cherry  blossoms. 

The  etiquette  of  these  is  quite  simple,  although  an  ap- 
pearance at  one  is  still  equivalent  to  a  presentation  at 

>«5 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

court.     A  few  days  before  the  festivity  each  guest   re- 
ceives a  large  chrysanthemum-bordered  card  : 

November — , . 

By  order  of  their  Majesties,  the  Emperor  and  Empress,  the  Min- 
ister of  State  for  the  Household  Department  presents  his  compli- 
ments to ,  and  asks  their  company  at  the  "Chrysanthemum 

Party  "  at  the  garden  of  the  Imperial  Temporary  Palace  on  the  8th 
inst.,  at  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

On  an  accompanying  slip  are  these  instructions : 

Frock-coat  required. 

To  alight  at  the  "  Kurumayose  "  after  entering  the  palace  gate. 
This  card  to  be  shown  to  officers  in  attendance  on  arrival. 
No  party  to  be  held  if  the  day  happens  rainy. 

The  guests  having  assembled  in  the  gardens  at  the 
hour  indicated,  the  Kimigayo,  or  national  anthem,  an- 
nounces the  approach  of  the  imperial  personages.  The 
Emperor,  the  Empress,  and  their  suite,  passing  between 
the  rows  of  guests  and  the  flower-tents,  lead  the  way  to 
marquees  on  the  lawn,  where  a  collation  is  served,  the 
Emperor  addressing  a  few  remarks  to  the  ministers  and 
envoys  as  he  greets  them.  Sometimes  special  presenta- 
tions are  made  to  him  and  the  Empress,  and  often  the 
Empress  summons  an  envoy's  wife  or  a  peeress  to  her, 
while  she  sits  at  table.  After  another  tour  of  the  flower- 
tents,  the  company,  following  the  imperial  lead,  desert 
the  gardens.  Calls  of  ceremony  must  be  made  upon  the 
wife  of  the  premier  within  one  week  after  these  parties. 

When  the  Empress  and  her  ladies  wore  the  old  dress 
the  garden-parties  at  the  palace  were  wonderfully  pictu- 
resque and  distinctly  Japanese.  It  was  my  good  fortune 
to  attend  the  chrysanthemum  fete  of  1885,  when  the 
Empress  and  her  suite  made  their  last  appearance  in 
the  red  hakatna  and  loose  brocade  kimonos  of  the  old 
regime.  The  day  was  warm,  with  the  brilliant  autumnal 
tints  peculiar  to  Japan,  clear  and  sunny.  There  were 
rows  of  chrysanthemum  beds  in  the  Asakasa  gardens, 

116 


The  Itnpcrial  Family 

shielded  from  sun  and  wind  by  matted  awnings,  screens, 
and  silk  hangings,  and  all  the  myriad  flowers  were  at  one 
even  and  perfect  period  of  unfolding.  Under  silk  tents 
by  themselves  stood  single  plants  bearing  from  two  hun- 
dred to  four  hundred  blossoms  each,  every  blossom  full 
and  symmetrical. 

The  peeresses  waiting  in  that  sunny  garden  were 
most  brilliant  figures,  rivalling  the  glow  of  the  flowers 
in  their  splendid  old  brocade  robes.  At  last  came  the 
Empress  and  the  whole  gorgeous  train  of  her  attend- 
ants, following  the  shore  of  the  mirror -like  lake,  past 
camellia  hedges  to  the  esplanade  of  the  upper  garden  of 
the  great  Asakasa  park.  As  the  Emperor  was  housed- 
by  illness,  the  Empress,  for  the  first  time,  conducted  a 
general  court  ceremony  alone.  Her  costume  consisted 
of  the  loose  hakama,  or  divided  skirt,  of  the  heaviest 
scarlet  silk,  under  a  long  loose  kimono  of  dull  helio- 
trope, brocaded  with  conventional  wistarias  and  the 
imperial  crests  in  white.  No  outer  obi,  or  sash,  was 
worn,  and  the  neck  was  closed  high  with  surplice  folds 
of  rainbow- tinted  silks.  Many  under-kimonos  of  fine 
white  and  scarlet  silk  showed  beneath  the  long,  square 
sleeves  of  the  heavy  brocade  kimono.  The  imperial 
hair  was  stiffened  into  a  thin  halo  behind  the  face,  fall- 
ing thence  to  the  waist,  but  tied  here  and  there  with  bits 
of  silky  white  rice-paper,  like  that  of  a  Shinto  priestess. 
Above  her  forehead  shone  a  little  golden  ornament  in 
the  shape  of  the  ho-o,  or  phoenix,  and  she  carried  a  para- 
sol and  an  old  court  fan  of  painted  sticks  of  wood,  wound 
with  long  cords  of  many-colored  silks.  The  dignity  and 
majesty  of  the  little  woman  were  most  impressive.  Every 
head  bowed  low,  and  when  she  had  passed  eyes  were 
lifted  to  her  reverently  and  admiringly.  All  the  princess- 
es and  peeresses  following  her  wore  a  similar  costume, 
many  of  their  brocade  kimonos  being  stiffened  with  em- 
broidery and  gold  thread,  and  making  dazzling  effects 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

of  color.  When,  in  the  brilliant  sunset  flush,  the  impe- 
rial train  retraced  its  steps,  its  kaleidoscopic  flashes  of 
white  and  gold  and  color  reflected  in  the  still  lake,  and 
showing  vividly  as  the  ladies  formed  in  a  semicircle  on 
the  lawn,  while  the  Empress  withdrew  to  her  apart- 
ments, there  ended  a  series  of  pictures  so  beautiful  that 
they  seemed  an  illusion  of  the  imagination. 

Before  the  following  April  Paris  fashions  had  set  in 
with  great  rigor,  and  all  the  soft,  pink  reflections  from 
the  clouds  of  cherry  blossoms  in  the  Hama  Rikiu  palace 
garden  could  not  give  the  groups  of  little  women  in 
dark,  ugly,  close-fitting  gowns  any  likeness  to  the  beau- 
tiful assemblages  of  other  years.  Gone  were  poetry  and 
picturesqueness.  Progress  and  Philistia  were  come. 
Except  for  the  costumes  of  the  Chinese  and  Korean 
legations,  and  that  of  the  Chinese  Minister's  wife,  with 
its  cap-like  ornaments  of  filigree  and  pearls,  and  tiny 
jewelled  slippers,  nothing  Oriental  or  Asiatic  in  aspect 
remained  to  that  court  gathering. 

The  Empress  ordained  and  defended  this  change  of 
dress  in  a  famous  court  circular,  whose  chief  argument 
seemed  to  be  that  the  alteration  from  the  sitting  and 
kneeling  etiquette  of  the  Orient  to  the  standing  eti- 
quette of  the  Occident  required  western  fashions  for 
women  as  well  as  men.  Every  lover  of  the  picturesque 
protested,  but  it  was  suspected  that  this  manifesto  was 
a  shrewd  political  move  of  Count  Ito's  to  convince  the 
treaty  powers  that  the  Japanese  do  not  differ  from  other 
civilized  people.  Should  the  sacrifice  of  the  old  life 
and  the  beautiful  national  dress  help  to  secure  for 
Japan  a  revision  of  the  shameful  and  unjust  treaties 
forced  upon  her  from  1854  to  1858,  and  promote  the 
political  liberty  and  commercial  prosperity  of  the  coun- 
try, the  Empress's  patriotic  iconoclasm  may  be  justified. 

The  sacredness  of  the  imperial  person  long  postponed 
her  Majesty's  change  of  fashion,  as  no  ignoble  dres§- 

(29 


The  Imperial  Family 

maker  could  be  allowed  to  touch  her.  Countess  Ito,  the 
clever  wife  of  the  premier,  and  leader  of  foreign  fashions 
at  court,  was  finally  chosen  as  lay  figure,  to  be  fitted  un- 
til a  model  could  be  made.  The  Empress  now  wears 
European  dress  altogether,  conduct  little  short  of  heroic 
for  one  accustomed  only  to  the  loose,  simple,  and  com- 
fortable garments  of  her  country.  Her  gowns  are  made 
of  Japanese  fabrics,  and  a  lace  school  under  her  patron- 
age supplies  her  with  flounces  and  trimmings.  At  in- 
door state  ceremonies,  low  bodices  and  court  trains  are 
prescribed,  and  the  Empress  wears  a  tiara,  riviere^  and 
innumerable  ornaments  of  diamonds.  The  court  ladies, 
who  formerly  wore  no  ornaments  but  the  single  long 
hair-pin  and  the  gold  balls  and  trifles  on  the  obi  cord, 
have  been  seized  by  a  truly  American  craze  for  diamonds, 
and  greatly  covet  the  new  Order  with  cordon  and  jew- 
elled star  lately  established  by  the  Empress. 

In  adopting  the  expensive  foreign  dress  court  ladies 
ruthlessly  sacrificed  irreplaceable  heirlooms  of  rich  old 
brocades  and  embroideries.  For  a  long  time  their  coun- 
tenances and  mien  betrayed  the  discomfort  of  the  new 
dress,  but  they  soon  acquired  ease  with  familiarity,  and 
no  Japanese  woman,  in  her  first  Parisian  gown,  was  ever 
such  a  burlesque  and  caricature  as  are  the  foreign  visit- 
ors who  essay  the  kimono,  and,  blind  to  the  ridiculous, 
are  photographed  with  its  folds  and  fulness  all  awry. 
Only  two  foreign  women  have  I  ever  seen  who  could 
wear  Japanese  dress  gracefully  in  the  Japanese  way,  with 
full  regard  to  the  meaning  which  each  color,  fold,  pucker, 
and  cord  implies. 

Asahiko,  the  Empress  Dowager,  one  of  the  Kujo  fam- 
ily of  kuges,  and  of  Fujiwara  descent,  maintained  the  old 
order  and  etiquette  and  made  few  concessions  to  the 
new  ways.  She  never  appeared  at  state  functions,  but 
the  ladies  of  her  suite,  in  beautiful  ceremonial  dresses, 
were  sometimes  seen  at  Koyokwan  No  performances, 

«»3 


yinrikisha  Days  in   yapan 

when  given  for  one  of  her  state  charities.  She  spent 
half  the  year  at  her  summer  palace  at  Hayama,  and  at 
her  death  in  January,  1897,  was  buried  beside  the  Em- 
peror Komei  at  the  Senyuji  temple  in  Kioto  with  a  mid- 
night Shinto  service.  The  most  rigorous  court  mourn- 
ing was  observed  for  one  year,  even  military  bands  being 
forbidden  to  play. 

The  Empress  Dowager  had  nominal  charge  of  the  im- 
perial nurseries  in  the  Nakayama  Yashiki,  where  the  chil- 
dren of  the  Emperor  and  his  inferior  wives  remain  until 
their  fourth  or  fifth  years.  These  wives  are  all  of  kuge 
birth,  and  have  establishments  within  the  palace  enclos- 
ure. They  are  an  Oriental  survival,  of  which  little  is  said 
or  definitely  known,  although  they  still  have  a  fixed  rank. 

The  Empress  Haruko  has  no  children,  and  Prince 
Haru,  the  Crown  Prince,  is  the  son  of  the  Emperor  and 
Madame  Yanagiwara.  Five  imperial  princesses  are  liv- 
ing, but  ten  imperial  children  have  died.  Prince  Haru 
was  born  "September  6,  1879,  proclaimed  heir  apparent 
August  31,  1887,  and  elected  Crown  Prince  November  3, 
1889,  dispossessing  as  heir  to  the  throne  Prince  Arisu- 
gawa  Takehito,  a  young  cousin,  who  had  been  adopted  by 
the  Emperor  in  the  absence  of  any  direct  heirs.  Prince 
Haru  attended  the  Nobles'  school,  recited  in  classes  with 
other  boys,  and  enjoyed  a  more  democratic  life  than  his 
ancestors  could  have  dreamed  of.  He  is  quick,  energetic, 
and  ambitious,  progressive  in  all  his  views,  enthusiastic 
and  tireless  in  his  occupations.  With  a  naturally  deli- 
cate constitution,  his  good  health  has  been  the  unceasing 
object  of  the  devoted  German  and  Japanese  court  phy- 
sicians, and  he  has  always  been  exempt  from  court  func- 
tions and  the  wearisome  public  duties  of  the  heir  apparent 
in  other  empires.  His  marriage  to  the  Princess  Sada, 
daughter  of  Prince  Kujo,  took  place  at  the  Imperial  Pal- 
ace in  Tokio  in  May,  1900,  and  the  birth  of  Prince  Michi 
in  April,  1901,  was  cause  of  rejoicing  to  the  empire. 

124 


Tokio  Palaces  and  Court 


CHAPTER    XII 
TOKIO    PALACES   AND   COURT 

Thirty  different  places  have  been  the  capital  and 
home  of  the  Emperors  of  Japan,  and  Omi,  Settsu,  and 
Yamashiro  were  imperial  provinces  before  the  Tokuga- 
wa's  city  of  Yeddo  (bay's  gate)  became  Tokio,  the  east- 
ern capital  and  seat  of  imperial  power.  The  Shogun's 
old  castle,  the  Honmaru,  or  the  Shiro,  was  the  imperial 
palace  until  destroyed  by  fire  in  May,  1873,  and  its  in- 
terior is  said  to  have  been  far  more  splendid  than  the 
Nijo  castle  in  Kioto.  The  yashiki  of  the  Tokugawa 
daimio  of  Kiushiu,  on  the  high  ground  of  the  Akasaka 
quarter,  next  sheltered  the  imperial  household,  though 
ill  adapted  to  its  changing  and  growing  needs. 

At  the  end  of  1888  the  Emperor  took  possession  of 
the  new  imperial  palace,  which  had  been  six  years  in 
building,  and  which  stands  upon  the  ruins  of  the  Sho- 
gun's castle,  protected  by  all  the  rings  of  moats.  Two 
drawbridges  and  two  ponderous  old  towered  gate-ways 
defend  the  entrance  to  the  front  wing  of  the  building,  a 
long  yellow  brick  edifice,  with  the  conical  towers  and 
steep  r6of  of  a  French  chateau.  The  offices  of  the  Impe- 
rial Household  Department  are  assigned  to  this  foreign 
wing,  except  for  which  the  new  structure  is  such  a  laby- 
rinthine collection  of  temple-like  buildings,  as  the  old 
palace  at  Kioto,  Built  on  sloping  and  uneven  ground, 
there  is  a  constant  change  of  level  in  the  innumerable 
roofs  and  floors.  Before  it  was  completed  a  tour  of  the 
palace  occupied  a  full  hour,  and  attendants  and  work- 
men were  often  lost  in  the  maze.     Combining  Japanese 

"'J 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

and  European  architecture,  decorations,  furnishings,  and 
ideas,  the  palace  is  a  jumble  of  unsatisfactory  incongru- 
ities, nobody  being  found  to  admire  thatched  roofs  and 
electric  lights,  partition  walls  of  sliding  paper  screens 
and  steam-heating  apparatus,  a  modern  ball-room,  and  a 
No  dance  pavilion  all  side  by  side. 

Each  lofty  state  apartment  is  a  building  by  itself,  the 
outer  galleries  on  the  four  sides  being  the  corridors  that 
touch  other  corridors  at  their  angles.  Plate-glass  doors 
in  maroon  lacquer  frames,  with  superb  metal  mountings, 
take  the  place  of  the  usual  paper  shoji ;  but  with  the  low 
eaves  and  the  light  entering  from  the  level  of  the  floor, 
the  rooms  need  all  their  Edison  lamps.  Unfortunately, 
the  best  examples  of  national  decorative  art  are  not  pre- 
served in  this  national  palace.  Only  the  richly  panelled 
ceilings  are  at  all  Japanese  or  worthy  their  place.  The 
famous  embroidered  ceiling  and  embroidered  wainscot- 
ing in  the  great  drawing-room,  and  some  makimonos  in 
the  private  rooms,  exhibit  the  best  Kioto  needle-work. 
This  wonderful  ceiling,  costing  ten  thousand  dollars,  is 
panelled  with  yard^squares  of  gold-thread  tapestry,  upon 
which  are  embroidered  crest-like  circles  of  various  flow- 
ers. The  wainscoting  is  green  damask  wrought  with 
fruits,  and  the  walls  of  the  drawing-room  are  hung  with 
a  neutral-tinted  damask. 

The  beautiful  Japanese  woods  and  the  marvellous 
Japanese  carvers  were  set  aside,  that  the  steam  factories 
of  Hamburg  might  supply  the  cheap  and  ugly  oak  furni- 
ture of  the  banquet-hall.  The  state  table,  seating  one 
hundred  people,  surrounds  three  sides  of  a  square.  The 
imperial  arm-chairs  are  at  the  middle  of  the  board, 
facing  elaborate  buffets,  framing  painted  tapestry-panels 
of  the  most  tawdry  German  design.  The  ball-room  has 
a  costly  inlaid  floor,  and  is  decorated  in  white  and  gold. 
The  throne-room  has  nothing  Japanese  but  the  crests  in 
the  panelled  ceiling.     A  large  gilded  arm-chair  stands 

ij6 


Tokto  Palaces  and  Court 


on  a  red-carpeted  dais,  with  canopy  and  curtains  of  red 
plush,  the  sacred  sword  and  seal  resting  on  lacquer  ta- 
bles beside  it.  At  court  functions  the  Empress,  stands 
on  a  dais  below  and  to  the  right  of  the  throne,  with  the 
imperial  princes  and  princesses  grouped  about  her.  The 
members  of  the  diplomatic  corps  are  placed  at  the  Em- 
peror's left,  the  ministers  and  higher  officials  fill  the 
space  facing  the  throne,  and  the  imperial  guard  line  the 
gallery  corridors  that  surround  the  throne-room. 

In  the  private  apartments  of  the  Emperor  and  Em- 
press moquette  carpets,  plush  furniture,  and  easy-chairs 
confess  foreign  influence  and  etiquette.  The  old  rules 
of  the  simplicity  of  a  Shinto  shrine  in  the  sovereign's 
dwelling  are  observed  in  leaving  all  the  wood-work  un- 
painted,  while  wax-candles  and  open  grates  replace  the 
electric  bulbs  and  gilded  radiators  of  the  official  parts  of 
the  palace.  Some  of  the  private  rooms  display  exquisite 
panelled  and  coffered  ceilings  of  pure  white  pine,  or  the 
beautiful  gray  bog-wood.  Each  suite  has  one  room  in 
pure  Japanese  style,  and  a  tiny  box  for  celebrating  the 
rites  of  cha  no  yu  with  a 
favored  four.  The  Em- 
peror's sleeping-room  is 
the  same  unlighted,  un- 
ventilated  dark  closet 
which  his  ancestors  used. 
This  sleeping-room  is  E 
in  the  accompanying  di- 
agram, surrounded  by 
rooms  occupied  at  night 
by  his  attendants  and 
guards. 

Above  this  floor  is  a 
suite  of  studies,  libraries, 

and  secretaries'  rooms,  all  finished  in  the  same  exquisite 
woods,  that  show  their  natural  grain  and  color.     There 


jinnkisha  Days  in  yapan 

is  a  separate  suite  of  rooms  for  the  Emperor's  toilet  and 
wardrobe,  a  robing  and  disrobing  room,  and  an  exquisite 
Japanese  bath-room  with  inlaid  floor  and  walls.  The 
sovereign  uses  the  regular  oval  wooden  tub  of  his  peo- 
ple, which  is  filled  from  a  well  in  the  adjoining  court  by 
means  of  the  primitive  bucket  and  rope.  The  screens 
in  these  private  rooms  are  undecorated,  or  at  the  most 
only  flecked  with  gold-leaf.  From  time  to  time,  by  spe- 
cial command,  artists  will  decorate  these,  and  squares  of 
colored  paper  put  here  and  there  upon  them  invite  the 
autograph  poems  of  the  tea-drinking  improvisators. 

Somewhere  in  the  recesses  of  the  palace  is  a  chapel 
or  Shinto  shrine,  but  the  officials  are  very  reticent  con- 
cerning it.  It  is  known  that  the  mortuary  tablets  of  the 
Emperor's  ancestors  are  there,  simple  /'//«/,  or  pieces  of 
pine  wood,  upon  which  are  written  the  posthumous 
names  of  the  deceased  rulers.  Official  bulletins  often 
announce  that  a  newly  appointed  minister  of  the  cabinet, 
or  a  diplomatic  officer  about  departing  for  his  post  is 
"ordered  to  worship  the  cenotaphs  in  the  imperial  chap- 
el," before  an  audience  with  the  Emperor.  Presumably, 
such  devotions  are  a  form  equivalent  to  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance in  other  countries.  Upon  the  anniversaries  of 
the  death  of  certain  of  his  ancestors,  on  the  days  of  the 
spring  and  autumn  festival,  when  the  first  rice  is  sown 
and  harvested,  as  well  as  before  any  great  ceremonial, 
it  is  announced  that  the  Emperor  will  worship  in  the  im- 
perial chapel.  The  aged  Prince  Kuni  Asahiko  is  con- 
ductor of  divine  services  to  the  imperial  family ;  but 
everything  about  that  simple,  formal  state  religion  is 
baffling  and  incomprehensible,  and  no  one  knows  what 
form  the  Shinto  services  in  the  palace  assume. 

The  Emperor  used  to  give  a  Japanese  banquet  on  the 
morning  of  his  birthday  to  princes,  ministers,  and  en- 
voys.    Chopsticks  were  used,  and  the  imperial  health 

was  drunk  from  sake-cups  of  fine  egg-shell  porcelain, 

128 


Tokio  Palaces  and  Court 

decorated  with  chrysanthemums  and  broken  diaper  pat- 
terns in  gold,  which  the  guests  carried  away  with  them 
as  souvenirs.  That  celebration  and  the  New-year  break- 
fast are  now  state  banquets, 
served  in  foreign  fashion,  with 
sovereign  and  consort  seated  at 
the  head  of  the  room.  Indeed, 
the  entire  service  of  the  palace 
and  of  the  Emperor's  table  is 
European ;  silver,  porcelain,  and 
glass  being  marked  with  the  im- 
perial crest  of  the  sixteen-petal-  imperial  s;u<£-cup 
led  chrysanthemum,  and  the  kiri 

mon  of  the  Paulownia  imperialis  appearing  in  the  deco- 
rative design  woven  in  the  white  silk  napery  and  traced 
on  the  delicate  porcelain  service.  The  palace  lackeys 
are  uniformed  in  dress-coats  with  many  cords  and  aiguil- 
lettes,  striped  vests,  knee-breeches,  white  silk  stockings, 
and  buckled  shoes.  Their  costume  resembles  that  of 
the  Vienna  palace,  colored  sketches  of  which  Prince  Ko- 
matsu  sent  home  during  his  winter  stay  on  the  Danube. 
The  palace  tiring  women  wear  the  garb  of  Kioto  days, 
purple  hakama  and  russet  silk  kimonos,  and  are  the 
most  fascinating  and  almost  the  only  Japanese  specta- 
cle in  the  imperial  precincts.  In  all  modifications  the 
usages  of  the  Berlin  court  have  been  followed,  and  no 
Prussian  military  martinet  or  court  chamberlain  could 
be  more  punctilious  in  matters  of  etiquette  than  the  Jap- 
anese court  officials. 

Of  the  Empress  Dowager's  palace  only  its  gate-way  is 
known.  The  Hama  Rikiu  palace  is  a  sea-shore  villa, 
owing  its  beautiful  garden  to  the  Shoguns,  but  it  is  occu- 
pied only  when  the  ministers  of  state  give  balls,  or  for- 
eign guests  of  the  Emperor  are  domiciled  there,  as  was 
General  Grant.  An  imperial  garden-party  is  held  in  its 
confines  each  spring,  and,  with  the  Fukiage  gardens  ad- 

1  IS9 


yinrikisha  Days  in   yapan 

joining  the  new  palace,  is  a  supreme  example  of  the  Jap- 
anese landscape  gardener's  art. 

For  the  support  of  these  palaces  and  the  expenses  of 
the  imperial  family  the  Imperial  Household  Department's 
expenditures  were  3,000,000  yens  in  1889  and  1899. 

Tokio  court  circles  have,  of  course,  their  factions  and 
cliques,  their  wars  and  triumphs,  and  the  favor  of  the 
sovereign  is  the  object  of  perpetual  scheming  and  in- 
triguing. 

The  peerage  of  Japan  numbers  eleven  princes,  thirty- 
four  marquises,  eighty-nine  counts,  three  hundred  and 
sixty-three  viscounts,  and  two  hundred  and  twenty-one 
barons.  All  kuge  families  are  in  this  new  peerage,  and 
such  daimios  of  the  Shogun's  court  as  give  aid  and  allegi- 
ance to  the  Emperor,  or  made  honorable  surrender  in  the 
conflict  of  1868.  Rank  and  title  were  conferred  upon 
ma  try  of  the  samurai  also,  the  leaders  in  the  work  of  the 
Restoration,  and  the  statesmen,  who  have  advised  and 
led  in  the  wonderful  progress  of  these  last  twenty  years; 
but  the  old  kug^s  have  never  brought  themselves  to 
accept  the  pardoned  daimios  and  ennobled  samurai  of 
other  days.  It  is  the  Oriental  version  of  the  relations 
between  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  the  aristocracy  of 
the  empire,  and  the  bureaucracy  of  the  present  French 
republic. 

The  imperial  princes  of  the  blood,  all  nearly  related 
to  the  Emperor,  rank  above  the  ten  created  princes,  who 
head  the  list  of  the  nobility.  Five  of  these  ten  princely 
houses  are  the  old  Gosekke,  the  first  five  of  the  one 
hundred  and  fifty-five  kuge  families  comprising  the  old 
Kioto  court.  With  the  Gosekke,  which  includes  the 
Ichijo,  Kujo,  Takatsukasa,  Nijo,  and  Konoye  families, 
rank,  since  1883,  the  houses  of  San  jo,  Iwakura,  Shimad- 
zu,  Mori,  and  Tokugawa,  sharing  with  them  the  privilege 
of  offering  the  bride  to  the  heir-apparent. 

The  Emperor  visits  personally  at  the  houses  of  these 


Tokio  Palaces  and  Court 

ten  princes,  and  recently  the  Tokugawas  entertained 
him  with  a  fencing-match  and  a  No  dance  in  old  style, 
the  costumes  and  masks  for  which  had  been  used  at 
Tokugawa  fetes  for  centuries.  In  accordance  with  other 
old  customs,  a  sword  by  a  famous  maker  was  presented 
to  the  guest  of  honor,  and  a  commemorative  poem  of- 
fered in  a  gold  lacquer  box.  Yet  the  head  of  the  Toku- 
gawa house  is  a  grandson  of  the  Shogun  who  first  re- 
fused to  treat  with  Commodore  Perry,  and  son  of  Keiki, 
the  arch  rebel  and  last  of  the  Shoguns,  who  for  so  long 
lived  forgotten  as  a  private  citizen  on  a  small  estate 
near  Shidzuoka,  keeping  alive  no  faction,  awaking  no 
interest— attaining,  in  fact,  a  political  Nirvana. 

Under  new  titles  the  old  fiefs  are  lost  sight  of  and 
old  associations  broken  up.  The  marquises,  counts,  and 
barons  of  to-day  are  slender,  dapper  little  men,  wearing 
the  smartest  and  most  irreproachable  London  clothes, 
able  to  converse  in  one  or  two  foreign  languages  on  the 
subjects  that  interest  cosmopolitans  of  their  rank  in 
other  empires,  and  are  with  difficulty  identified  with 
their  feudal  titles.  The  Daimio  of  Kaga  has  become 
the  Marquis  Maeda,  his  sister  married  the  Emperor's 
cousin,  and  the  great  yashiki  of  their  ancestors  has 
given  way  to  the  buildings  of  the  Imperial  University. 
The  Daimio  of  Satsuma  is  now  Prince  Shimadzu.  It  is 
not  easy  to  associate  these  modern  men-about-town,  who 
dance  at  state  balls,  who  play  billiards  and  read  the  files 
of  foreign  newspapers  at  the  Rokumeikwan,  who  pay 
afternoon  calls,  attend  teas,  garden-parties,  dinners,  con- 
certs, and  races  ;  who  have  taken  up  poker  and  tennis 
with  equal  ardor,  and  are  victimized  at  charity  fairs  and 
bazaars,  with  their  pompous,  stately,  two-sworded,  bro- 
cade and  buckram  bound  ancestors. 

There  are  great  beauties,  favorites,  and  social  leaders 
among  the  ladies  of  the  court  circle,  and  the  change  in 
their  social  position  and  personal  importance  is  incred- 


Jtnriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

ibie.  Japanese  matrons,  who,  a  few  years  ago,  led  the 
most  quiet  and  secluded  existence,  now  preside  with 
ease  and  grace  over  large  establishments,  built  and 
maintained  like  the  official  residences  of  London  or 
Berlin.  Their  struggles  with  the  difficulties  of  a  new 
language,  dress,  and  etiquette  were  heroic.  Mothers 
and  daughters  studied  together  with  the  same  English 
governess,  and  princesses  and  diplomats'  wives,  return- 
ing from  abroad,  gave  new  ideas  to  their  friends  at 
home.  Two  Japanese  ladies,  now  foremost  at  court, 
are  graduates  of  Vassar  College,  and  many  high  officials 
are  happily  married  to  foreign  wives ;  American,  Eng- 
lish, and  German  women  having  assumed  Japanese 
names  with  their  wedding  vows.  The  court  has  its 
reigning  beauty  in  the  wife  of  the  grand  master  of  cere- 
monies, the  richest  peer  of  his  day,  and  representative 
of  that  family  which  gave  its  name  to  the  finest  porce- 
lain known  to  the  ceramic  art  of  the  empire. 

Tokio  society  delights  in  dancing,  and  every  one  at 
court  dances  well.  Leaders  of  fashion  go  through  the 
quadrille  d'hontieiir,  with  which  state  balls  open,  and 
follow  the  changes  of  the  lancers  with  the  exactness  of 
soldiers  on  drill,  every  step  and  movement  as  precise 
and  finished  as  the  bending  of  the  fingers  in  cha  no  yu. 
The  careless  foreigner  who  attempts  to  dance  an  unfa- 
miliar figure  repents  him  of  his  folly.  Japanese  polite- 
ness is  incomparable,  but  the  sedateness,  the  precision, 
and  exactness  of  the  other  dancers  in  the  set  will  re- 
proach the  blunderer  until  he  feels  himself  a  criminal. 
The  ball  is  the  more  usual  form  of  state  entertainments. 
The  prime-minister  gives  a  ball  on  the  night  of  the 
Emperor's  birthday,  and  the  governor  of  Tokio  gives  a 
ball  each  winter.  From  time  to  time  the  imperial  princes 
and  the  ministers  of  state  offer  similar  entertainments, 
and  every  legation  has  its  ball-room.     The  members  of 

the  diplomatic  corps  are  as  much  in  social  unison  with 

13a 


Tokio  Palaces  and  Court 

the  higher  Japanese  circles  as  it  is  possible  to  be  with 
such  subjects  at  any  capital,  and  the  round  of  tiffins, 
dinners,  garden-parties,  and  small  dances  makes  Tokio 
very  gay  during  the  greater  part  of  the  year. 

The  first  formal  visiting  of  the  season  begins  in  Oc- 
tober, and  by  May  social  life  is  at  an  end  until  hot 
weather  is  over.  Lent  makes  little  break  in  the  social 
chain.  Great  seriousness  and  exactness  in  social  usage 
is  inherent  in  this  high-bred  people.  Visits  of  ceremony 
are  scrupulously  paid  within  the  allotted  time,  and  a 
newly-arrived  official  in  Tokio  finds  no  diminution  of 
the  card-leaving  and  visiting  which  awaits  him  in  any 
other  capital.  At  the  houses  of  the  imperial  princes 
cards  are  not  left,  the  visitor  inscribing  his  name  in  a 
book  in  the  hall.  After  each  state  ball,  a  guest  must 
call  at  once  upon  the  princess,  or  minister's  wife,  who  pre- 
sided, and  any  remissness  strikes  his  name  from  her  list. 

Garden-parties  are  the  favorite  expression  of  Tokio 
hospitality.  All  official  residences  in  the  city  have  fine 
grounds,  and  many  ministers  of  state  own  suburban 
villas.  A  few  of  the  legations  are  able  to  entertain  in 
the  same  way,  and  many  military  officers  make  the  gar- 
den of  the  old  Mito  yashiki,  now  the  Arsenal  grounds, 
the  scene  of  their  courtesies. 

There  is  a  stately  court  journal,  which  is  the  official 
bulletin,  but  Tokio  has  not  yet  set  up  a  paper  of  society 
gossip  and  scandal  for  the  rigorous  censorship  of  the 
Japanese  press  to  expunge ;  nor  are  there  books  of 
court  memoirs.  Yet  what  memoirs  could  be  more  inter- 
esting than  those  that  might  be  written  by  the  men  and 
women  who  were  born  in  feudal  times,  who  have  lived 
through  the  exciting  days  of  the  Restoration,  and  have 
watched  the  birth  and  growth  of  New  Japan. 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 


CHAPTER   XIII 
THE   SUBURBS   OF   TOKIO 

The  suburbs  of  Tokio  are  full  of  holiday  resorts  for 
the  people  and  the  beautiful  villas  of  nobles.  To  the 
north-east,  in  Oji,  are  the  Government  chemical  works 
and  paper  mills,  where  rough  bits  of  mulberry-wood  are 
turned  into  papers  of  a  dozen  kinds,  the  silkiest  tissue- 
paper,  smooth,  creamy  writing-paper,  thick  parchment, 
bristol-board,  and  the  thin  paper  for  artists  and  etchers. 
On  a  sheet  of  the  heaviest  parchment  paper  I  once  stood 
and  was  lifted  from  the  floor,  the  fabric  showing  no  mark 
of  rent  or  strain,  and  it  is  wellnigh  impossible  to  tear 
even  a  transparent  Oji  letter  sheet.  The  Oji  tea-house 
has  a  famous  garden,  and  in  autumn  Oji's  hill-sides  blaze 
with  colored  maples,  and  then  the  holiday  makers  mark 
the  place  for  their  own. 

Waseda,  the  northern  suburb,  contains  an  old  temple, 
a  vast,  gloomy  bamboo-grove,  and  the  villa  of  Countess 
Okuma,  to  whose  genius  for  landscape-gardening  is  also 
due  the  French  Legation's  paradise  of  a  garden,  in  the 
heart  of  the  city,  that  place  having  been  Count  Okuma's 
town  residence  before  he  sold  it  to  the  French  Govern- 
ment.   From  Waseda's  rice  fields  a  greater  marvel  grew. 

Meguro,  south  of  Tokio,  is  a  place  of  sentimental  pil- 
grimage to  the  lovers  of  Gompachi  and  Komurasaki,  the 
Abelard  and  Heloise  of  the  East,  around  whose  tomb  the 
trees  flutter  with  paper  poems,  and  prayers.  In  the  tem- 
ple grounds  are  falling  streams  of  water,  beneath  which, 
summer  and  winter,  praying  pilgrims  stand,  to  be  thus 
pumped  on  for  their  sins.    Similar  penitents  may  be  seen 

134 


The  Suburbs  of  Tokt'o 

at  a  little  temple  niched  in  the  bluff  of  Mississippi  Bay. 
Meguro  has  an  annual  azalea  fete  and  a  celebration  of 
the  maple-leaf,  and  its  resident  nobles,  among  whom  is 
General  Saigo,give  feasts  in  honor  of  the  season's  blooms. 

The  Sengakuji  temple,  near  Shinagawa,  is  a  sacred 
spot  and  shrine  of  chivalry,  the  burial-place  of  the  Forty- 
seven  Ronins ;  and  here  come  pious  pilgrims  to  say  a 
prayer  and  leave  a  stick  of  burning  incense,  and  view  the 
images  and  relics  in  the  little  temple. 

Near  Omori,  half-way  between  Yokohama  and  Tokio, 
Professor  Morse  discovered  the  shell -heaps  of  prehis- 
toric man.  The  neighborhood  is  made  beautiful  by  old 
groves,  old  temples  and  shrines,  tiny  villages,  picturesque 
farm-houses,  and  hedge-lined  roads,  while  Ikegami's  tem- 
ples shine  upon  the  hill  that  stands  an  evergreen  island 
in  the  lake  of  greener  rice  fields  or  golden  stubble.  Here 
died  Nichiren,  founder  of  the  Buddhist  sect  bearing  his 
name.  For  six  centuries  these  splendid  temples  have 
resounded  with  the  chantings  of  his  priesthood,  who  still 
expound  his  teachings  to  the  letter.  The  Nichiren  sect 
is  the  largest,  richest,  most  influential,  and  aggressive  in 
Japan.  They  are  the  Protestants  and  Presbyterians  of 
the  Buddhist  religion ;  firm,  hard,  and  unrelenting  in 
their  faith,  rejecting  all  other  creeds  as  false,  and  zeal- 
ously proselyting.  Nichiren  was  a  great  scholar,  who, 
poring  over  Chinese  and  Sanscrit  sutras,  believed  him- 
self to  have  discovered  the  true  and  hidden  meaning  of 
the  sacred  books.  His  labors  were  colossal,  and  though 
exiled,  imprisoned,  tortured,  and  condemned  to  death, 
he  lived  to  see  his  followers  increasing  to  a  great  body 
of  true  believers,  and  himself  established  as  high-priest 
over  the  temples  of  Ikegami.  In  the  popular  play  "  Ni- 
chiren," one  has  thrilling  evidence  of  what  the  pious 
founder  and  his  disciples  endured. 

On  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  of  each  October  special 
services  are  held  in  memory  of  Nichiren,  which  thou- 


Jtnrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

sands  of  people  attend.  On  the  first  day  of  this  matsuri 
the  railway  is  crowded  with  passengers.  Bonfires  and 
strings  of  lanterns  mark  the  Omori  station  by  night,  and 
by  day  the  neighboring  matsuri  is  announced  by  tall 
bamboo  poles,  from  which  spring  whorls  of  reeds  covered 
with  huge  paper  flowers.  These  giant  flower-stalks  are 
the  conventional  sign  for  festivities,  and  when  a  row  of 
them  is  planted  by  the  road-side,  or  paraded  up  and 
down  with  an  accompaniment  of  gongs,  the  holiday  spirit 
responds  at  once.  The  quiet  country  road  is  blockaded 
with  hundreds  of  jinrikishas  going  to  and  returning  from 
Ikegami's  terraced  gate-ways.  Men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, priests,  beggars,  and  peddlers  pack  the  highway. 
The  crowd  is  amazing — as  though  these  thousands  of 
people  had  been  suddenly  conjured  from  the  ground,  or 
grown  from  some  magician's  powder — for  nothing  could 
be  quieter  than  Omori  lanes  on  all  the  other  days  of  the 
year. 

Along  the  foot-paths  of  the  fields  women  in  tightly- 
wrapped  kimonos  with  big  umbrellas  over  their  beauti- 
fully-dressed heads;  young  girls  with  the  scarlet  petti- 
coats and  gay  hair-pins  indicative  of  maidenhood ;  little 
girls  and  boys  with  smaller  brothers  and  sisters  strapped 
on  their  backs,  trudge  along  in  single  files,  high  above 
the  stubble  patches,  to  the  great  matsuri.  In  farm-house 
yards  persimmon-trees  hang  full  of  mellow,  golden  fruit, 
and  the  road  is  literally  lined  with  these  apples  of  the 
Hesperides.  Peddlers  sit  on  their  heels  behind  their 
heaped  persimmons  and  busily  tie  straw  to  the  short 
stems  of  the  fruit,  that  the  buyer  may  carry  his  purchase 
like  a  bunch  of  giant  golden  grapes.  Fries,  stews,  bakes, 
and  grills  scent  the  air  with  savors,  and  all  sorts  of  little 
balls  and  cubes,  pats  and  cakes,  lumps  and  rolls  of  eat- 
ables are  set  out  along  the  country  road.  A  queer  sort 
of  sea-weed  scales,  stained  bright  red,  is  the  chewing- 
gum  of  the  East,  and  finds  a  ready  market. 

136 


The  Suburbs  of  Tokio 

On  the  days  of  the  matsuri  the  village  street  is  impas- 
sable, and  the  whole  broad  walk  of  the  temple  grounds 
leading  from  the  pagoda  is  lined  with  booths,  jugglers, 
acrobats,  side  shows,  and  catch-penny  tricksters.  The 
"  sand-man,"  with  bags  of  different  colored  sands,  makes 
beautiful  pictures  on  a  cleared  space  of  ground,  rattling 
and  gabbling  without  cessation  while  he  works.  First 
he  dredges  the  surface  with  a  sieve  full  of  clean  white 
sand,  and  then  sifts  a  little  thin  stream  of  black  or  red 
sand  through  his  closed  hand,  painting  warriors,  maid- 
ens, dragons,  flowers,  and  landscapes  in  the  swiftest, 
easiest  way.  It  is  a  fine  example  of  the  trained  hand 
and  eye,  and  of  excellent  free-hand  drawing.  A  juggler 
tosses  rings,  balls,  and  knives  in  the  air,  and  spins  plates 
on  top  of  a  twenty-foot  pole.  His  colleague  balances 
a  big  bamboo  on  one  shoulder,  and  a  small  boy  climbs 
it  and  goes  through  wonderful  feats  on  the  cross-piece 
at  the  top.  A  ring  of  gaping  admirers  surrounds  a  mas- 
ter of  the  black  art,  who  swallows  a  lighted  pipe,  drinks, 
whistles,  produces  the  pipe  for  a  puff  or  two,  swallows  it 
again,  and  complacently  emits  fanciful  rings  and  wreaths 
of  smpke.  Hair-pins,  rosaries,  toys,  and  sweets  are 
everywhere  for  sale. 

A  huge,  towering,  heavy-roofed  red  gate-way  admits 
streams  of  people  to  the  great  court-yard,  surrounded 
on  three  sides  by  temples  large  and  small,  where  the 
priests  chant  and  pound  and  the  faithful  pray,  rubbing 
their  rosaries  and  tossing  in  their  coins.  At  one  shrine 
greasy  locks  of  hair  tied  to  the  lattices  are  votive  offer- 
ings from  those  who  have  appealed  to  the  deity  within. 
There  is  a  little  temple  to  the  North  Star,  where  seamen 
and  fisher-folk  pray,  and  one  to  Daikoku,  the  god  of 
riches  and  abundance,  the  latter  a  fat  little  man  sitting 
on  bags  of  rice,  and  always  beset  by  applicants. 

In  the  great  temple  pyramids  of  candles  burn,  incense 
rises,  bells  sound,  and  money  rains  into  the  big  cash-box 

>37 


Jinrikt'sha  Days  in  Japan 

at  the  head  of  the  steps.  The  splendid  interior  is  a 
mass  of  lacquer,  gilding,  and  color,  the  panelled  ceiling 
has  an  immense  filigree  brass  baldaquin  hanging  like  a 
frosted  canopy  over  the  heads  of  the  priests,  and  a  su- 
perb altar,  all  images,  lotus  -  leaves,  lights,  and  gilded 
doors,  dazzles  the  eye.  Under  the  baldaquin  sits  the 
high-priest  of  the  temple,  who  is  a  bishop  of  the  largest 
diocese  in  Japan,  while  at  either  side  of  him  more  than 
two  hundred  celebrants  face  each  other  in  rows.  The 
priestly  heads  are  shaven,  the  smooth  faces  wear  the  ec- 
static, exalted  expression  of  devotees  purified  by  vigil 
and  fasting,  and  over  their  white  or  yellow  gauze  kimo- 
nos are  tied  kesas,  or  cloaks  of  rich  brocade.  The 
lesser  hierarchy  appear  in  subdued  colors  —  gray,  pur- 
ple, russet — but  the  head  priest  is  arrayed  in  gorgeous 
scarlet  and  gold,  and  sits  before  a  reading-desk,  whose 
books  are  covered  with  squares  of  similar  brocade.  He 
leads  the  chanted  service  from  a  parchment  roll  spread 
before  him,  at  certain  places  touching  a  silver- toned 
gong,  when  all  the  priests  bow  low  and  chant  a  response, 
sitting  for  hours  immovable  upon  the  mats,  intoning  and 
reading  from  the  sacred  books  in  concert.  At  intervals 
each  raps  the  low  lacquer  table  before  him  and  bends 
low,  while  the  big  temple  drum  sounds,  the  high-priest 
touches  his  gong,  and  slowly,  behind  the  lights  and  in- 
cense clouds  of  the  altar,  the  gilded  doors  of  the  shrine 
swing  open  to  disclose  the  precious  image  of  sainted 
Nichiren.  On  all  sides  stand  the  faithful,  extending 
their  rosary -wrapped  hands  and  muttering  the  Nichi- 
rene's  special  form  of  prayer :  "  JVamti  mio  ho  ren  ge 
kio  "  (Glory  to  the  salvation-bringing  book,  the  blossom 
of  doctrine). 

After  seven  hours  of  worship  a  last  litany  is  uttered, 
and  the  procession  of  priests  files  through  the  grounds 
to  the  monastery,  stopping  to  select  from  the  two  hun- 
dred and  odd  pairs  of  wooden  clogs,  waiting  at  the  edge 

14S 


The  Suburbs  of  Tokio 

of  the  temple  mats,  each  his  proper  pair.  The  high- 
priest  walks  near  the  middle  of  the  line  underneath  an 
immense  red  umbrella.  He  carries  an  elaborate  red  lacq- 
uer staff,  not  unlike  a  crozier,  and  even  his  clogs  are 
of  red  lacquered  wood.  The  service  in  the  temple  sug- 
gests the  forms  of  the  Roman  Church,  and  this  Buddhist 
cardinal,  in  his  red  robes  and  umbrella,  is  much  like  his 
fellow-dignitary  of  the  West. 

To  citizens  of  the  United  States  Ikegami  has  a  pecul- 
iar interest.  When  the  American  man-of-war  Oneida  was 
run  down  and  sunk  with  her  officers  and  crew  by  the 
P.  and  O.  steamer  Bombay,  near  the  mouth  of  Yeddo 
Bay,  January  23,  1870,  our  Government  made  no  effort 
to  raise  the  wreck  or  search  it,  and  finally  sold  it  to  a 
Japanese  wrecking  company  for  fifteen  hundred  dollars. 
The  wreckers  found  many  bones  of  the  lost  men  among 
the  ship's  timbers,  and  when  the  work  was  entirely  com- 
pleted, with  their  voluntary  contributions  they  erected  a 
tablet  in  the  Ikegami  grounds  to  the  memory  of  the  dead, 
and  celebrated  there  the  impressive  Buddhist  segakt 
(feast  of  hungry  souls),  in  May,  1889.  The  great  tem- 
ple was  in  ceremonial  array;  seventy -five  priests  in 
their  richest  robes  assisted  at  the  mass,  and  among 
the .  congregation  were  the  American  admiral  and  his 
officers,  one  hundred  men  from  the  fleet,  and  one  sur- 
vivor of  the  solitary  boat's  crew  that  escaped  from  the 
Oneida. 

The  Scriptures  were  read,  a  service  was  chanted,  the 
Sutra  repeated,  incense  burned,  the  symbolic  lotus-leaves 
cast  before  the  altar,  and  after  an  address  in  English  by 
Mr.  Amenomori  explaining  the  segaki,  the  procession 
of  priests  walked  to  the  tablet  in  the  grounds  to  chant 
prayers  and  burn  incense  again. 

No  other  country,  no  other  religion,  offers  a  parallel  to 
this  experience ;  and  Americans  may  well  take  to  heart 

•39 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

the  example  of  piety,  charity,  magnanimity,  and  liberal- 
ity that  this  company  of  hard-working  Japanese  fisher- 
men and  wreckers  have  set  them. 


CHAPTER   XIV 
A   TRIP   TO   NIKKO 


The  Nikko  mountains,  one  hundred  miles  north  of 
Tokio,  are  the  favorite  summer  resort  of  foreign  resi- 
dents and  Tokio  officials.  The  railway  now  reaches 
Nikko,  and  one  no  longer  travels  for  the  last  twenty-five 
miles  in  jinrikisha  over  the  most  beautiful  highway,  lead- 
ing through  an  unbroken  avenue  of  over-arching  trees 
to  the  village  of  Hachi-ishi,  or  Nikko. 

On  the  very  hottest  day  of  the  hottest  week  of  Au- 
gust we  pacl^ed  our  koris,  the  telescope  baskets  which 
constitute  the  Japanese  trunk,  and  fled  to  the  hills. 
Smoke  and  dust  poured  in  at  the  car  windows,  the  roof 
crackled  in  the  sun,  the  green  groves  and  luxuriant 
fields  that  we  whirled  through  quivered  with  heat,  and 
a  chorus  of  grasshoppers  and  scissors-grinders  deafened 
us  at  every  halt.  At  Utsonomiya  it  was  a  felicity  to  sit 
in  the  upper  room  of  a  tea-house  and  dip  our  faces  and 
hold  our  hands  in  basins  of  cool  spring-water,  held  for 
us  by  the  sympathetic  nesans.  They  looked  perfectly 
cool,  fresh,  and  unruffled  in  their  clean  blue-and-white  cot- 
ton kimonos,  for  the  Japanese,  like  the  Creoles,  appear 
never  to  feel  the  heat  of  summer,  and,  indeed,  to  be 
wholly  indifferent  to  any  weather.  The  same  placid 
Utsonomiya  babies,  whose  little  shaved  heads  bobbed 
around  helplessly  in  the  blaze  of  that  midsummer  sun, 
I  have  seen  equally  serene  with  their  bare  skulls  red- 
dening, uncovered,  on  the  frostiest  winter  mornings. 

140 


A  Trip  to  Nikko 

Once  out  of  the  streets  of  this  little  provincial  capital, 
the  way  to  Nikko  leads  up  a  straight  broad  avenue, 
lined  on  both  sides  for  twenty-seven  miles  with  tall  and 
ancient  cryptomerias,  whose  branches  meet  in  a  Gothic 
arch  overhead.  The  blue  outlines  of  the  Nikko  mount- 
ains showed  in  the  distance  as  we  entered  the  grand 
avenue.  The  road  is  a  fine  piece  of  engineering,  with 
its  ascent  so  slow  and  even  as  to  seem  level ;  but  at 
times  the  highway,  with  its  superb  walls  of  cryptomeria, 
is  above  the  level  of  the  fields,  then  even  with  them,  and 
then  below  them,  as  it  follows  its  appointed  lines.  Before 
the  railway  reached  Utsonomiya,  travellers  from  Tokio 
had  a  boat  journey,  and  then  a  jinrikisha  ride  of  seventy 
miles  through  the  shaded  avenue.  This  road  was  made 
two  centuries  ago,  when  the  Shoguns  chose  Nikko  as 
their  burial  place,  and  these  venerable  trees  have  shaded 
the  magnificent  funeral  trains  of  the  old  warriors,  and  the 
splendid  processions  of  their  successors,  who  made  pil- 
grimages to  the  tombs  of  lyeyasu  and  lyemitsu.  In  our 
day,  alas,  instead  of  mighty  daimios  and  men-at-arms  in 
coats  of  mail,  or  brocaded  grandees  in  gilded  palanquins, 
telegraph-poles,  slim,  ugly,  and  utilitarian,  impertinently 
thrust  themselves  forward  before  the  grand  old  tree- 
trunks,  and  the  jinrikisha  and  the  rattle-trap  basha  take 
their  plebeian  way. 

The  cryptomeria  has  the  reddish  bark  and  long, 
smooth  bole  of  the  California  sequoia,  and  through  the 
mat  of  leaves  and  branches,  high  overhead,  the  light 
filters  down  in  a  soft  twilight  that  casts  a  spell  over  the 
place.  After  sunset  the  silence  and  stillness  of  the 
shaded  avenue  were  solemn,  and  its  coolness  and  the 
fragrance  of  moist  earth  most  grateful.  Two  men  ran 
tandem  with  each  jinrikisha,  and  they  went  racing  up 
the  avenue  for  ten  miles,  halting  only  once  for  a  sip  of 
cold  water  before  they  stopped  at  the  hamlet  of  Osawa. 
The  villages,  a  row  of  low  houses  on  either  side  of  the 


yinrikisha  Days  in  "Japan 

way,  make  the  only  break  in  the  long  avenue.  With  its 
dividing  screens  drawn  back,  the  Osawa  tea-house  was 
one  long  room,  with  only  side  walls  and  a  roof,  the  front 
open  to  the  street,  and  the  back  facing  a  garden  where 
a  stream  dashed  through  a  liliputian  landscape,  fell  in  a 
liliputian  fall,  and  ran  under  liliputian  bridges.  At  the 
street  end  was  a  square  fireplace,  sunk  in  the  floor,  with 
a  big  teakettle  swinging  by  an  iron  chain  from  a  beam 
of  the  roof,  teapots  sitting  in  the  warm  ashes,  and  bits 
of  fowl  and  fish  skewered  on  chopsticks  and  set  up  in 
the  ashes  to  broil  before  the  coals.  The  coolies,  sitting 
around  this  kitchen,  fortified  their  muscle  and  brawn 
with  thimble  cups  of  green  tea,  bowls  of  rice,  and  a  few 
shreds  of  pickled  fish.  We,  as  their  masters  and  supe- 
riors, were  placed  as  far  as  possible  from  them,  and  pic- 
nicked at  a  table  in  the  pretty  garden.  After  the  severe 
exertion  of  sitting  still  and  letting  the  coolies  draw  us, 
we  restored  our  wasting  tissues  by  rich  soup,  meats,  and 
all  the  stimulating  food  that  might  be  thought  more 
necessary  to  the  laboring  jinrikisha  men. 

When  we  started  again,  with  all  the  tea-house  staff 
singing  sweet  sayonaras,  a  glow  in  the  east  foretold  the 
rising  moon,  and  a  huge  stone  torii  at  the  end  of  the  vil- 
lage loomed  ghostly  against  the  blackness  of  the  forest. 
The  glancing  moonlight  shot  strange  shadows  across  the 
path,  and  we  went  whirling  through  this  lattice  of  light 
and  darkness  in  stillness  and  solitude.  The  moon  rose 
higher  and  was  hidden  in  the  leafy  arch  overhead,  and 
before  we  realized  that  its  faint  light  was  fading,  came 
flashes  of  lightning,  the  rumble  of  approaching  thunder, 
and  a  sudden  crash,  as  the  flood  of  rain  struck  the  tree- 
tops  and  poured  through.  The  hoods  of  the  jinrikishas 
were  drawn  up,  the  oil-papers  fastened  across  us,  and 
through  pitch  darkness  the  coolies  raced  along.  Vivid 
flashes  of  lightning  showed  the  thick,  white  sheet  of  rain, 
which  gusts  of  wind  blew  into  our  faces,  while  insidious 


A  Trip  to  Nikko 

streams  slipped  down  our  shoulders  and  glided  into  our 
laps.  Putting  their  heads  down,  the  coolies  beat  their  way 
against  the  rain  for  two  more  soaking  miles  to  Imaichi, 
the  last  village  on  the  road,  only  five  miles  from  Nikko. 
The  tea-house  into  which  we  turned  for  shelter  was 
crowded  with  belated  and  storm-bound  pilgrims  coming 
down  from  the  sacred  places  of  Nikko  and  Chiuzenji. 
All  Japanese  are  talkative,  the  lower  in  station  the  more 
loquacious,  and  the  whole  coolie  company  was  chatter- 
ing at  once.  As  the  place  was  too  comfortless  to  stay  in, 
we  turned  out  again  in  the  rain,  and  the  coolies  splashed 
away  at  a  walk,  through  a  darkness  so  dense  as  to  be  felt. 
At  midnight  our  seven  jinrikishas  rattling  into  the  hotel 
court,  and  fourteen  coolies  shouting  to  one  another  as 
they  unharnessed  and  unpacked,  roused  the  house  and 
the  whole  neighborhood  of  Nikko.  Awakened  sleepers 
up-stairs  looked  out  at  us  and  banged  the  screens  angri- 
ly, but  no  sounds  can  be  deadened  in  a  tea-house. 

To  the  traveller  the  tea-house  presents  many  phases 
of  comfort,  interest,  and  amusement  altogether  wanting 
in  the  conventional  hotel,  which  is,  unfortunately,  becom- 
ing common  on  the  great  routes  of  travel.  The  dimen- 
sions of  every  house  in  the  empire  conform  to  certain 
unvarying  rules.  The  verandas,  or  outer  galleries  of  the 
house,  are  always  exactly  three  feet  wide.  A  foreigner, 
who  insisted  on  a  nine-feet-wide  veranda,  entailed  upon 
his  Nikko  carpenter  many  days  of  painful  thought,  pipe- 
smoking,  and  conference  with  his  fellows.  These  me- 
chanics were  utterly  upset  in  their  calculations.  They 
sawed  the  boards  and  beams  too  long  or  too  short,  and 
finally  produced  a  very  bad,  un-Japanese  piece  of  work. 
The  floors  of  these  galleries  are  polished  to  a  wonderful 
smoothness  and  surface.  They  are  not  varnished,  nor 
oiled,  nor  waxed,  but  every  morning  rubbed  with  a  cloth 
wrung  out  of  hot  bath-water  which  contains  oily  matter 
enough  to  give,  in  time,  this  peculiar  lustre.   Three  years 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

of  daily  rubbing  with  a  hot  cloth  are  required  to  give  a 
satisfactory  result,  and  every  subsequent  year  adds  to 
the  richness  of  tone  and  polish,  until  old  tea-houses  and 
temples  disclose  floors  of  common  pine  looking  like  rose- 
wood, or  six-century-old  oak. 

The  area  of  every  room  is  some  multiple  of  three 
feet,  because  the  soft  tatami,  or  floor-mats,  measure 
six  feet  in  length  by  three  in  width.  These  are  woven 
of  common  straw  and  rushes,  faced  with  a  closely- 
wrought  mat  of  rice-straw.  It  is  to  save  these  tatami 
and  the  polished  floors  that  shoes  are  left  outside  the 
house. 

The  thick  screens,  ornamented  with  sketches  or  poems, 
that  separate  one  room  from  another,  are  the  fusuma; 
the  screens  shutting  off  the  veranda,  pretty  lattice  frames 
covered  with  rice-paper  that  admit  a  peculiarly  soft  light 
to  the  rooms,  are  the  shoji,  and  in  their  management  is 
involved  an  elaborate  etiquette.  In  opening  or  closing 
them,  well-bred  persons  and  trained  servants  kneel  and 
use  each  thumb  and  finger  with  ordered  precision,  while 
it  is  possible  to  convey  slight,  contempt,  and  mortal  in- 
sult in  the  manner  of  handling  these  sliding  doors.  The 
outer  veranda  is  closed  at  night  and  in  bad  weather  by 
amados,  solid  wooden  screens  or  shutters,  that  rumble 
and  bang  their  way  back  and  forth  in  their  grooves. 
These  amados  are  without  windows  or  air-holes,  and  the 
servants  will  not  willingly  leave  a  gap  for  ventilation. 
"  But  thieves  may  get  in,  or  the  kappa  r  they  cry,  the 
kappa  being  a  mythical  animal  always  ready  to  fly  away 
with  them.  In  every  room  is  placed  an  andon,  or  night- 
lamp.  If  one  clap  his  hands  at  any  hour  of  the  twenty- 
four,  he  hears  a  chorus  of  answering  Hei!  hei  !  hefs  f  and 
the  thump  of  the  nesans  bare  feet,  as  they  run  to  attend 
him.  While  he  talks  to  them,  they  keep  ducking  and 
saying  Heh  !  heh  !  which  politely  signifies  that  they  are 
giving  their  whole  attention. 


A   Trip  to  Nikko 

The  Japanese  bed  is  the  floor,  with  a  wooden  box  un- 
der the  neck  for  a  pillow  and  a  futon  for  a  covering.  To 
the  foreigner  the  Japanese  landlord  allows  five  or  six 
futons,  or  cotton-wadded  comforters,  and  they  make  a 
tolerable  mattress,  although  not  springy,  and  rather  apt 
to  be  damp  and  musty.  The  traveller  carries  his  own 
sheets,  woolen  blankets,  feather  or  air  pillows,  and  flea- 
powder,  the  latter  the  most  necessary  provision  of  all. 
The  straw  mats  and  the  futons  swarm  with  fleas,  and 
without  a  liberal  powdering,  or,  better,  an  anointing  with 
oil  of  pennyroyal,  it  is  impossible  to  sleep.  These  sleep- 
ing arrangements  are  not  really  comfortable,  and,  after 
the  fatigue  of  walking  and  mountain  -  climbing,  stiffen 
the  joints.  By  day  the  futons  are  placed  in  closets  out 
of  sight,  or  hung  over  the  balconies  to  air,  coming  back 
damper  than  ever,  if  the  servants  forget  to  bring  them  in 
before  sunset.  The  bedroom  walls  are  the  sliding  pa- 
per screens ;  and  if  one's  next  neighbor  be  curious,  he 
may  slip  the  screen  a  little  or  poke  a  hole  through  the 
paper.  A  whisper  or  a  pin-drop  travels  from  room  to 
room,  and  an  Anglo-Saxon  snorer  would  rock  the  whole 
structure. 

At  ordinary  Japanese  inns  the  charge  for  a  day's  ac- 
commodation ranges  from  a  half-yen  upward.  A  Jap- 
anese can  get  his  lodgings  and  all  his  meals  for  about 
thirty  cents,  but  foreigners  are  so  clumsy,  untidy,  and 
destructive,  and  they  demand  so  many  unusual  things, 
that  they  are  charged  the  highest  price,  which  includes 
lodging,  bedding,  and  all  the  tea,  rice,  and  hot  water 
they  may  wish.  All  other  things  are  extra.  In  the  beat- 
en tracks  bread  and  fresh  beef  may  always  be  found,  and 
each  year  there  is  less  need  of  carrying  the  supplies  for- 
merly so  essential.  Chairs  and  tables,  cots,  knives  and 
forks,  and  corkscrews  have  gradually  penetrated  to  the 
remotest  mountain  hamlets.  At  the  so-called  foreign 
hotels  at  Nikko  and  other  resorts,  charges  are  usually 

K  MS 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

made  at  a  fixed  price  for  each  day,  with  everything  in- 
cluded, as  at  an  American  hotel. 

Foreigners  travelling  away  from  the  ports  take  with 
them  a  guide,  who  acts  as  courier,  cooks  and  serves  the 
meals,  and  asks  two  and  a  half  yens  a  day  with  expenses. 
Thus  accompanied,  everything  goes  smoothly  and  easily; 
rooms  are  found  ready,  meals  are  served  promptly,  show- 
places  open  their  doors,  the  best  conveyances  await  the 
traveller's  wish,  and  an  encyclopaedic  interpreter  is  al- 
ways at  his  elbow.  Without  a  guide  or  an  experienced 
servant,  even  a  resident  who  speaks  the  language  fares 
hardly.  Like  all  Orientals,  the  Japanese  are  impressed 
by  a  retinue  and  the  appearances  of  wealth.  They  wear 
their  best  clothes  when  travelling,  make  a  great  show, 
and  give  liberal  tips.  The  foreigner  who  goes  to  the 
Nakasendo  or  to  remote  provinces  alone,  trusting  to  the 
phrase-book,  finds  but  little  consideration  or  comfort. 
He  ranks  with  the  class  of  pilgrims,  and  the  guest-room 
and  the  choicest  dishes  are  not  for  him.  The  guide  may 
swindle  his  master  a  little,  but  the  comforts  and  advan- 
tages he  secures  are  well  worth  the  cost.  All  the  guides 
are  well-to-do  men  with  tidy  fortunes.  They  exact  com- 
missions wherever  they  bring  custom,  and  can  make  or 
break  landlords  or  merchants  if  they  choose  to  combine. 
Some  travellers,  who,  thinking  it  sharp  to  deprive  the 
guides  of  these  percentages,  have  been  left  by  them  in 
distant  provinces  and  forced  to  make  their  way  alone, 
have  found  the  rest  of  the  journey  a  succession  of  impo- 
sitions, difficulties,  and  even  of  real  hardships.  After 
engaging  a  guide  and  handing  him  the  passport,  the 
traveller  has  only  to  enjoy  Japan  and  pay  his  bill 
at  the  end  of  the  journey.  The  guides  know  more 
than  the  guide-book;  and  with  Ito,  made  famous  by 
Miss  Bird,  Nikko  and  Kioto  yielded  to  us  many  pleas- 
ures which  we  should  otherwise  have  missed.  An  ac- 
quaintance with  Miyashta  and  his  sweet -potato  hash 

146 


Nikko 

made  the  Tokaido  a  straight  and  pleasant  way;  and 
Moto's  judicial  countenance  caused  Nikko,  Chiuzenji, 
and  Yumoto  to  disclose  unimagined  beauties  and  lux- 
uries ;  and  Utaki  always  marshalled  the  impossible  and 
the  unexpected. 


CHAPTER    XV 
NIKKO 


Of  all  Japan's  sacred  places,  Nikko,  or  Sun's  Bright- 
ness, is  dearest  to  the  Japanese  heart.  Art,  architecture, 
and  landscape-gardening  add  to  Nature's  opulence,  his- 
tory and  legend  people  it  with  ancient  splendors,  and  all 
the  land  is  full  of  memories.  "He  who  has  not  seen 
Nikko  cannot  say  Kekko T  (beautiful,  splendid,  superb), 
runs  the  Japanese  saying. 

With  its  forest  shades,  its  vast  groves,  and  lofty  ave- 
nues, its  hush,  its  calm  religious  air,  Nikko  is  an  ideal 
and  dream-like  place,  where  rulers  and  prelates  may  well 
long  to  be  buried,  and  where  priests,  poets,  scholars,  ar- 
tists, and  pilgrims  love  to  abide.  Each  day  of  a  whole 
summer  has  new  charms,  and  Nikko's  strange  fascina- 
tion but  deepens  with  acquaintance. 

The  one  long  street  of  Hachi-ishi,  or  lower  Nikko  vil- 
lage, ends  at  the  banks  of  the  Dayagawa,  a  roaring 
stream  that  courses  down  a  narrow  valley,  walled  at  its 
upper  end  by  the  bold,  blue  bar  of  Nantaisan,  the  sacred 
mountain.  Legend  has  peopled  this  valley  of  the  Daya- 
gawa with  impossible  beings  —  giants,  fairies,  demons, 
and  monsters.  Most  of  the  national  fairy  stories  begin 
with,  "Once  upon  a  time  in  the  Nikko  mountains,"  and 
one  half  expects  to  meet  imp  or  fay  in  the  green  shad- 
ows. Mound  builder  and  prehistoric  man  had  lived  their 
squalid  lives  here  ;  the  crudest  and  earliest  forms  of  re- 
ligion had  been  observed  in  these  forest  sanctuaries  long 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

before  Kobo  Daishi  induced  the  Shinto  priests  to  believe 
that  their  god  of  the  mountain  was  but  a  manifestation 
of  Buddha.  Everything  proclaims  a  hoary  past — trees, 
moss-grown  stones,  battered  images,  crumbling  tombs, 
overgrown  and  forgotten  graveyards. 

Each  summer  half  the  Tokio  legations  move  bodily  to 
Nikko,  and  temples,  monastery  wings,  priests'  houses, 
and  the  homes  of  the  dwellers  in  the  upper  village  are 
rented  to  foreigners  in  ever-increasing  numbers.  Nikko 
habitations  do  not  yet  bring  the  prices  of  Newport  cot- 
tages, but  the  extravagant  rate  of  three  and  even  five 
hundred  yens  for  a  season  of  three  months  is  a  Japan- 
ese equivalent.  Besides  the  foreigners,  there  are  many 
Japanese  residents ;  and,  while  the  Crown-Prince  occu- 
pies his  summer  palace,  he  is  daily  to  be  met  in  the 
streets,  the  forest  paths,  or  temple  grounds.  The  white- 
clad  pilgrims  throng  hither  by  thousands  during  July 
and  early  August,  march  picturesquely  to  the  jingle  of 
their  staffs  and  bells  round  the  great  temples,  and 
trudge  on  to  the  sanctuary  on  Chiuzenji's  shores  within 
the  shadow  of  holy  Nan-taisan. 

Two  bridges  cross  the  Daiyagawa,  and  lead  to  the 
groves  and  temples  that  make  Nikko's  fame.  One  bridge 
is  an  every-day  affair  of  plain,  unpainted  timbers,  across 
which  jinrikishas  rumble  noisily,  and  figures  pass  and  re- 
pass. The  other  is  the  sacred  bridge,  over  which  only 
the  Emperor  may  pass,  in  lieu  of  the  Shoguns  of  old,  for 
whom  it  was  reserved.  It  is  built  of  wood,  covered  with 
red  lacquer,  with  many  brass  plates  and  tips,  and  rests 
on  foundation  piles  of  Titanic  stone  columns,  joined  by 
cross-pieces  of  stone,  carefully  fitted  and  mortised  in. 
Tradition  maintains  that  the  gods  sent  down  this  rain- 
bow bridge  from  the  clouds  in  answer  to  saintly  prayer. 
Its  sanctity  is  so  carefully  preserved,  that  when  the  Em- 
peror wished  to  pay  the  highest  conceivable  honor  to 
General  Grant,  he  ordered  the  barrier  to  the  bridge  to 


Nikko 

be  opened  that  his  guest  might  walk  across.  Greatly  to 
his  credit,  that  modest  soldier  refused  to  accept  this 
honor,  lest  it  should  seem  a  desecration  to  the  humble 
believers  in  the  sanctity  of  the  red  bridge. 

Shaded  avenues,  broad  staircases,  and  climbing  slopes 
lead  to  the  gate-ways  of  the  two  great  sanctuaries — the 
mortuary  temples  and  tombs  of  the  Shogun  lyeyasu  and 
his  worthy  grandson,  the  Shogun  lyemitsu.  The  hill- 
side is  shaded  by  magnificent  old  cryptomerias ;  and 
these  sacred  groves,  with  the  soft  cathedral  light  under 
the  high  canopy  of  leaves,  are  as  wonderful  as  the  sacred 
buildings.  Each  splendid  gate-way,  as  well  as  the  soar- 
ing pagoda,  can  be  seen  in  fine  perspective  at  the  end  of 
long  avenues  of  trees,  and  bronze  or  stone  torii  form 
lofty  portals  to  the  holy  places.  The  torii  is  a  distinct- 
ively national  structure,  and  these  grand  skeleton  gates 
of  two  columns  and  an  upward  curving  cross-piece  are 
hnpressive  and  characteristic  features  of  every  Japanese 
landscape,  standing  before  even  the  tiniest  shrines  in  the 
Liliputian  gardens  of  Japanese  homes,  as  well  as  forming 
the  approach  to  every  temple.  The  stone  torii  and  the 
rows  of  stone  lanterns  are  mossy  and  lichen-covered,  and 
every  foot  of  terrace  or  embankment  is  spread  with  fine 
velvety  moss  of  the  freshest  green.  Although  two  hun- 
dred years  old,  the  temples  themselves  are  in  as  perfect 
condition  and  color  as  when  built ;  and  nothing  is  finer, 
perhaps,  than  the  five -storied  pagoda  with  its  red  lac- 
quered walls,  the  brass  trimmings  of  roofs  and  rails,  the 
discolored  bells  pendent  from  every  angle,  and  a  queer, 
corkscrew  spiral  atop,  the  whole  showing  like  a  great 
piece  of  jeweller's  work  in  a  deep,  green  grove. 

lyeyasu,  founder  of  Yeddo,  successor  of  the  Taiko,  and 
military  ruler  in  the  golden  age  of  the  arts  in  Japan,  was 
the  first  Shogun  buried  on  Nikko's  sacred  hill-side,  and 
it  was  intended  to  make  the  mortuary  temple  before  his 
tomb  as  splendid  as  the  crafts  of  the  day  permitted. 

«49 


y/nriktsha  Days  in  yapan 

His  grandson,  lyemitsu,  was  the  next  and  only  other 
Shogun  interred  at  Nikko,  and  his  temple  fairly  rivals 
that  of  his  ancestor. 

At  each  shrine  rise  broad  stone  steps  leading  to  the 
first  and  outer  court-yards,  where  stand  the  magnificent 
gates,  exquisitely  carved,  set  with  superb  metal  plates. 
and  all  ablaze  with  color  and  gilding.  The  eye  is  con- 
fused in  the  infinite  detail  of  structure  and  ornament, 
and  the  intricacy  of  beams  and  brackets  upholding  the 
heavy  roofs  of  these  gate-ways.  Walls  of  red  lacquer 
and  gold,  with  carved  and  colored  panels  topped  with 
black  tiles,  surround  each  enclosure,  and  through  inner 
and  outer  courts  and  gate -ways,  growing  ever  more 
and  more  splendid,  the  visitor  approaches  the  temples 
proper,  their  soaring  roofs,  curved  gables,  and  ridge-poles 
set  with  the  Tokugawa  crest  in  gold,  sharp  cut  against 
the  forest  background.  At  the  lowest  step  his  shoes 
are  taken  off,  and  he  is  permitted  to  wander  slowly 
through  the  magnificent  buildings  on  the  soft,  silk-bor- 
dered mats.  Richly  panelled  ceilings,  lacquered  pillars, 
carved  walls,  and  curtains  of  the  finest  split  bamboo  be- 
long to  both  alike,  and  in  the  gloom  of  inner  rooms  are 
marvels  of  carving  and  decoration,  only  half  visible. 

Both  temples  were  once  splendid  with  all  the  em- 
blems and  trappings  of  Buddhism,  redolent  with  in- 
cense, musical  with  bells  and  gongs,  and  resounding  all 
day  with  chanted  services.  But  after  the  Restoration, 
when  the  Shinto  became  the  state  religion  and  the  Em- 
peror made  a  pilgrimage  to  Nikko,  lyeyasu's  temple  was 
stripped  of  its  splendid  altar  ornaments,  banners,  and 
symbols,  and  the  simple  mirror  and  bits  of  paper  of  the 
empty  Shinto  creed  were  substituted.  In  the  dark  chapel 
behind  the  first  room  there  remains  a  large  gong,  whose 
dark  bowl  rests  on  a  silken  pad,  and  when  softly  struck 
fills  the  place  with  rising  and  falling,  recurring  and  wav- 
ering, tones  of  sweetness  for  five  whole  minutes,  while 


Nikko 

Ito  stands  with  open  watch  and  warning  finger,  and  the 
priest  bends  low  and  drinks  in  the  music  with  ecstatic 
countenance.  lyemitsu's  temple  was  spared,  and  there 
stand  the  rows  of  superb  lacquered  boxes  containing 
the  sacred  writings.  Ihere,  too,  are  the  gilded  images, 
golden  lotus-leaves,  massive  candlesticks,  drums,  gongs, 
banners  and  pendent  ornaments,  besides  the  giant  ko- 
ros,  breathing  forth  pale  clouds  of  incense,  that  accom- 
panied the  rites  of  the  grand  old  Buddhist  faith. 

Each  temple  has  a  fine  water-tank  in  its  outer  court ; 
an  open  pavilion,  with  solid  corner  posts  supporting  the 
heavy  and  ornate  roof  above  the  granite  trough.  Each 
basin  is  a  single,  huge  block  of  stone,  hollowed  out  and 
cut  with  such  exactness  that  the  water,  welling  up  from 
the  bottom,  pours  over  the  smooth  edges  so  evenly  as 
to  give  it  the  look  of  a  cube  of  polished  glass.  The 
fountain  at  the  lyemitsu  temple  was  the  gift  of  the 
princes  of  Nabeshima,  and  its  eaves  flutter  with  the 
myriad  flags  left  there  by  pilgrims  who  come  to  pray  at 
the  great  shrine.  All  about  the  temple  grounds  is  heard 
the  noise  of  rushing  water,  and  the  music  and  gurgle  of 
these  tiny  streams,  the  rustle  of  the  high  branches,  and 
the  cawing  of  huge  solitary  rooks  are  the  only  sounds 
that  break  the  stillness  of  the  enchanted  groves  between 
the  soft  boomings  of  the  morning  and  evening  bells. 
The  noise  of  voices  is  lost  in  the  great  leafy  spaces,  and 
the  sacredness  of  the  place  subdues  even  the  unbeliev- 
ing foreigner,  while  native  tourists  and  pilgrims  move 
silently,  or  speak  only  in  undertones,  and  make  no  sound, 
save  as  their  clogs  clatter  on  stones  and  gravel. 

It  is  impossible  to  carry  away  more  than  a  general  and 
bewildered  impression  of  the  splendid  walled  and  lan- 
terned courts,  the  superb  gate -ways,  and  the  temples 
themselves,  but  certain  details,  upon  which  the  guides  in- 
sist, remain  strangely  clear  in  memory.    Over  the  doors 

of  the  stable  where  the  sacred  white  pony  is  kept  are 
K—  153 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

colored  carvings  representing  groups  of  monkeys  with 
eyes,  or  ears,  or  mouth  covered  with  their  paws — the  sig- 
nification being  that  one  should  neither  see,  hear,  nor 
speak  any  evil.  In  one  superbly- carved  gate-way  is  a 
little  medallion  of  two  tigers,  so  cunningly  studied  and 
worked  out  that  the  curving  grain  and  knots  of  the  wood 
give  all  the  softly -shaded  stripes  of  their  velvet  coats  and 
an  effect  of  thick  fur.  One  section  of  a  carved  column 
in  this  gate  is  purposely  placed  upsidedown,  the  builder 
fearing  to  complete  so  perfect  and  marvellous  a  -piece  of 
workmanship.  Above  another  gate-way  curls  a  comfort- 
able sleeping  cat,  which  is  declared  to  wink  when  rain  is 
coming,  and  this  white  cat  has  as  great  a  fame  as  any- 
thing along  the  Daiyagawa. 

The  strangest  hierophant  in  Nikko  is  the  priestess 
who  dances  at  the  temple  of  lyeyasu.  She  looks  her  three- 
score years  of  age,  and  is  allowed  a  small  temple  to  her- 
self, where  she  sits,  posed  like  an  altar  image,  with  a  big 
money-box  on  the  sacred  red  steps  before  her,  into  which 
the  pious  and  the  curious  toss  their  offerings.  Then  the 
priestess  rises  and  solemnly  walks  a  few  steps  this  way, 
a  few  steps  that  way,  poses  before  each  change,  shakes 
an  elaborate  sort  of  baby's  rattle  with  the  right-hand,  and 
gesticulates  with  an  open  fan  in  the  left-hand.  The  se- 
date walk  to  and  fro,  the  movements  of  the  rattle  and 
fan  constitute  the  dance,  after  which  this  aged  Miriam 
sits  down,  bows  her  head  to  the  mats,  and  resumes  her 
statuesque  pose.  She  wears  a  nun-like  head-dress  of 
white  miislin,  and  a  loose  white  garment  without  obi, 
over  a  red  petticoat,  the  regular  costume  of  the  Shinto 
priestesses.  She  seems  always  amiable  and  ready  to 
respond  to  a  conciliatory  coin,  but  the  visitor  wonders 
that  the  cool  and  shaded  sanctuary  in  which  she  sits, 
with  nearly  the  whole  front  wall  making  an  open  door, 
does  not  stiffen  her  aged  joints  with  rheumatism  and  end 
her  dancing  days. 

'54 


Nikko 

A  green  and  mossy  staircase,  a  greener  and  mossier 
balustraded  walk,  leads  up  and  along  the  crest  of  the  hill 
to  the  final  knoll,  atop  of  which  stands  the  simple  bronze 
urn  containing  the  great  Shogun's  body.  A  more  still 
and  solemn,  a  more  peaceful  and  beautiful  resting-place 
could  not  be  imagined,  and  the  peculiar  green  twilight 
reigning  under  the  closely-set  cryptomerias,  with  those 
long  stretches  of  stone  balustrades  and  embankments, 
which  the  forest  has  claimed  for  its  own  and  clothed  in  a 
concealing  mantle  of  the  greenest  moss,  subdue  the  most 
frivolous  beholder  to  silence  and  seriousness. 

On  that  velvety-green  stair-way  leading  to  lyeyasu's 
tomb  I  met,  one  day,  a  scholar  of  fine  taste  and  great 
culture,  a  man  of  distinction  in  his  native  West.  "  I  am 
overwhelmed  with  the  beauty  and  magnificence  of  all 
this,"  he  said.  "  I  must  concede  the  greatness  of  any 
religion  that  could  provide  and  preserve  this,  and  teach 
its  followers  to  appreciate  it." 

Afterwards,  almost  on  the  same  step,  a  dear  mission- 
ary friend  stopped  me,  with  eyes  full  of  tears.  "  Oh  !" 
she  sighed,  "this  fills  me  with  sadness  and.  sorrow. 
These  emblems  and  monuments  of  heathenism !  I  see 
nothing  beautiful  or  admirable  in  those  wicked  temples. 
They  show  me  how  hard  it  will  be  to  uproot  such  hea- 
then creeds.     I  wish  I  had  not  come." 

A  woodland  path  leads  around  the  foot  of  the  great 
hill  on  which  the  Shoguns'  tombs  are  built,  a  path  laid 
with  large  flat  stones  and  set  with  a  rough  curbing  of 
loose  rocks  and  bowlders,  covered — by  the  drip  and  damp 
and  shade  of  centuries — with  a  thick  green  moss.  This 
silent  footway  leads  past  many  small  temples,  stone- 
fenced  enclosures,  moss-covered  tombs  and  tablets,  tiny 
shrines  behind  tiny  torii,  and  battered,  broken-nosed, 
and  headless  Buddhas.  Half- hidden  tracks,  in  that 
gloomy  and  silent  cryptomeria  forest,  rough -set  stair- 
cases, roads  plunging  into  the  deep  shadow  of  the  woods 

«S7 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

entice  the  explorer  to  ever-new  surprises.  At  deserted 
and  silent  shrines  heaps  of  pebbles,  bits  of  paper,  oi 
strips  of  wood  painted  with  a  sacred  character  attest 
the  presence  of  prayerful  pilgrims,  who  have  sought 
them  out  to  register  a  vow  or  petition.  Tiny  red  shrines 
gleam  jewel-like  in  the  far  shadows,  and  fallen  cryptome- 
rias  make  mounds  and  ridges  of  entangled  vines  among 
the  red-barked  giants  still  standing.  Above  a  water-fall, 
all  thin  ribbons  and  jets  of  foam,  are  more  old  temples, 
where  pilgrims  come  to  pray  and  tourists  to  admire,  but 
where  no  one  ever  despoils  the  unguarded  sanctuaries. 
In  one  of  these  buildings  are  life-size  images  of  the 
gods  of  thunder  and  the  winds.  Raiden,  the  thunder- 
god,  is  a  bright -red  divinity  with  a  circle  of  drums 
surrounding  his  head  like  a  halo,  a  fierce  countenance, 
and  two  goaty  horns  on  his  forehead.  Futen,  the  god  of 
winds,  has  a  grass-green  skin,  two  horny  toes  to  each 
foot,  and  a  big  bag  over  his  shoulders.  A  fine  heavy- 
roofed  red  gate-way  and  bell-tower  distinguish  another 
cluster  of  temples  in  this  still  forest  nook,  their  altars 
covered  .with  gilded  images.  One  open  shrine,  which 
should  be  the  resort  of  jinrikisha  men,  is  dedicated  to  a 
muscular  red  deity,  to  whom  votaries  offer  up  a  pair  of 
sandals,  beseeching  him  for  vigorous  legs.  The  whole 
place  is  hung  over  with  wooden,  straw,  and  tin  sandals, 
minute  or  colossal.  Then  down  through  the  wood,  past 
a  hoary  graveyard,  where  abbots  and  monks  of  Nikko 
monasteries  were  buried  for  centuries  before  the  Sho- 
guns  came,  one  returns  to  the  Futa-ara  temple  and  lye- 
mitsu's  first  gate-way. 

In  our  wanderings  we  once  happened  upon  an  old 
and  crowded  graveyard,  with  splendid  trees  shading  the 
mossy  tombs  and  monuments.  The  stone  lanterns, 
Buddhas,  and  images  were  past  counting,  and  one  gran- 
ite deity,  under  a  big  sun-hat,  had  a  kerchief  of  red  cot- 
ton  tied   under   his    chin.     His   benevolent    face   and 

158 


Nikko 

flaming  robes  were  stuck  all  over  with  tiny  bits  of 
paper,  on  which  the  faithful  had  written  their  petitions, 
and  the  lanterns  beside  him  were  heaped  wiih  prayer- 
stones.  A  Hindoo -looking  deity  near  by  sat  with  up- 
lifted knee,  on  which  he  rested  one  arm  and  supported 
his  bent  and  thoughtful  head. 

A  hundred  stone  representatives  of  Buddha  sit  in 
mossy  meditation  under  the  shadow  of  the  river  bank, 
long  branches  trailing  over  them  and  vines  clambering 
about  their  ancient  brows.  Time  has  rolled  some  from 
their  lotus  pedestals,  beheaded  others,  and  covered 
them  all  with  white  lichens  and  green  moss,  and  Gam- 
man,  as  this  row  of  Buddhas  is  named,  is  the  strangest 
sight  among  the  many  strange  sights  of  the  river  bank. 
Custom  ordains  that  one  should  count  them,  and  no  two 
persons  are  believed  to  have  ever  recorded  the  same 
number  of  images  between  the  bridge  and  Kobo  Daishi's 
open  shrine. 

There  is  an  eta  village  just  below  Nikko,  peopled  by 
these  outcasts,  who  follow  their  despised  calling  of  hand- 
ling the  carcasses  of  animals  and  dressing  leather  and 
furs.  Their  degradation  seems  to  result  not  more  from 
that  Buddhist  law  which  forbids  the  taking  of  animal 
life,  than  from  the  legendary  belief  that  they  are  the  de- 
scendants of  Korean  prisoners,  long  kept  as  executioners 
and  purveyors  for  the  imperial  falcons.  Colonies  of  etas 
lived  for  centuries  without  part  or  lot  in  the  lives  of  their 
high-caste  neighbors.  After  the  Restoration,  the  power 
of  the  great  nobles  was  curtailed,  and  with  the  gradual 
freeing  of  the  lower  classes  from  the  tyranny  of  caste 
tiie  eta  became  a  citizen,  protected  by  law.  Prejudice 
still  confines  him  to  his  own  villages,  but  when  he  leaves 
them  salt  is  no  longer  sprinkled  on  the  spot  where  he 
stands  to  purify  it. 

The  most  harrowing  situation  of  the  old  romances 
was  the  falling  in  love  of  a  noble  with  a  beautiful  eta 

•59 


Jinrtkisha  Days  in  yapan 

girl.  Now  the  eta  children  attend  the  Government 
schools  on  the  same  terms  as  their  betters.  But  this 
liberality  was  of  slow  growth,  and  in  one  province,  where 
the  stiff-necked  parents  withdrew  their  children  because 
of  the  presence  of  these  pariahs,  the  governor  entered 
himself  as  a  pupil,  sitting  side  by  side  with  the  little  out- 
casts in  the  same  classes,  after  which  august  demonstra- 
tion of  theoretical  equality  caste  distinctions  were  al- 
lowed to  fade. 

Nikko  becomes  a  great  curio  mart  each  summer,  the 
curios  having,  naturally,  a  religious  cast ;  and  bells, 
drums,  gongs,  incense-burners,  images,  banners,  brocade 
draperies,  and  priestly  fans  make  a  part  of  every  ped- 
dler's pack,  each  thing,  of  course,  being  certified  to  have 
come  from  the  sacred  treasuries  near  by.  The  souve- 
nirs, which  the  most  hardened  tourist  cannot  resist  buy- 
ing, are  the  Nikko  specialties  of  trays,  cups,  boxes,  and 
teapots  of  carved  and  lacquered  wood,  and  of  curious 
roots,  decorated  with  chrysanthemums  or  incised  sketches 
of  the  Sacred  Bridge.  The  Japanese  eye  sees  possibili- 
ties in  the  most  unpromising  knot,  and  the  Japanese 
hand  hollows  it  into  a  casket,  or  fits  it  with  the  spout 
and  handle  that  turn  it  into  a  teapot.  All  the  village 
street  is  lined  with  these  wooden-ware  shops,  alternating 
with  photograph  and  curio  marts. 

Visitors  to  Nikko  always  buy  its  yuoki,  a  candy  made 
of  chestnuts  and  barley-sugar,  which  comes  in  slabs  an 
inch  square  and  six  inches  long,  wrapped  in  a  dried  bam- 
boo sheath,  and  put  in  the  dainty  little  wooden  boxes 
which  make  Japanese  purchases  so  attractive.  It  is  like 
a  dark-brown  fig-paste,  and  has  a  flavor  of  marrons 
glaces  and  of  maple-sugar.  Flocks  of  children,  with  ba- 
bies on  their  backs,  hover  about  the  yuoki  shop  in  upper 
Nikko,  and  if  the  tourist  bestows  a  box  on  them,  their 
comical  bobs  and  courtesies,  their  funny  way  of  touch- 
ing the  forehead  with  the  gift  during  all  the  bowing,  and 

i6o 


Nikko 

the  rapture  with  which  they  attack  the  bar  of  sweets 
express  most  eloquent  thanks. 

When  rain  or  fatigue  prevented  our  making  any  out- 
door excursions,  the  village  street  furnished  us  with  an 
all-day  occupation.  A  mossy  and  abandoned  rice-mill 
faced  us  across  the  road,  with  a  tiny  cascade  dripping 
down  from  the  leafy  hill  behind  it,  feeding  its  overshot 
wheel,  and  dropping  by  dwarf  water-falls  to  the  side  of 
the  road,  whence  it  ran  down  the  slope  to  add  its  sing- 
ing to  the  water  chorus  that  makes  all  Nikko  musical. 
Pack-horses,  farmers,  pilgrims,  and  villagers  went  pict- 
uresquely by,  each  pedestrian  tucking  his  kimono  in  his 
belt  to  shorten  it,  and  holding  a  vast  golden  halo  over 
his  head  in  the  shape  of  a  flat,  oil-paper  rain  umbrella. 

A  small  garden  separated  our  summer  home  at  Nikko 
from  our  landlord's  house,  and  from  early  morning,  when 
his  amados  thundered  open,  until  dark,  when  they  rum- 
bled shut,  the  whole  conduct  of  Japanese  household  life 
lay  before  us.  Our  neighbors  came  out  of  doors  be- 
times. A  bucket  of  water  from  a  tiny  cascade  filled  the 
broad,  shallow  copper  wash-basin,  in  which  one  by  one 
they  washed  their  faces.  Meanwhile  the  kettle  boiled 
over  the  charcoal  fire,  and  some  child  ran  down  to  a  pro- 
vision-shop for  a  square  slab  of  bean-curd,  which,  with 
many  cups  of  tea,  a  little  rice,  and  shreds  of  pickled  fish, 
composed  their  breakfast.  Then  the  futons  were  hung 
over  poles  or  lines  to  sun ;  the  andons,  pillows,  and 
big  green  tents  of  musquito-nets  put  away;  the  tatami 
brushed  off,  and  the  little  shop  put  in  order  for  the  day. 

The  women  washed  and  starched  their  gowns,  pasting 
them  down  on  flat  boards  to  smooth  and  dry  ;  sewed  and 
mended,  scrubbed  and  scoured  in  the  narrow  alcove  of 
a  kitchen  all  the  morning;  while  the  children  trotted 
back  and  forth  with  buckets  of  water  to  sprinkle  the 
garden,  wash  the  stones,  fill  the  bath-tubs,  and  supply 
the  kitchen.     The  rice,  after  being  washed  and  rubbed 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

in  the  cascade,  was  soaked  for  an  hour  and  then  poured 
into  the  furiously  boiling  rice-pot.  The  brush  fire  under 
the  stone  frame  of  the  kettle  was  raked  out,  and  when 
the  steam  came  only  in  interrupted  puffs  from  under  the 
cover,  this  was  lifted  to  show  a  pot  full  to  the  brim  of 
snowy-white  grains.  A  soup  had  meanwhile  been  stew- 
ing, a  fish  had  been  broiled  over  charcoal,  and,  with  tea, 
the  noonday  dinner  was  ready.  At  some  hour  of  the 
day  offerings  of  rice  and  food  were  mysteriously  placed 
on  the  steps  of  the  tiny  shrine  to  the  fox-god,  chief  orna- 
ment of  the  farther  garden.  Towards  sundown  came 
supper,  and  then  the  lighting  of  the  lamps.  Shadow 
pictures  on  the  shoji  repeated  the  actions  and  groupings 
within,  the  splash  of  water  betrayed  the  family  bath,  and 
when  all,  from  grandfather  to  baby,  had  been  boiled  and 
scrubbed,  the  amados  banged,  and  the  performance  was 
over  until  sunrise. 


CHAPTER    XVI 
CHIUZENJI    AND    YUMOTO 


The  Inquisition  should  have  been  put  in  possession 
of  the  Japanese  kago  as  a  lesser  punishment  for  heretics, 
so  exquisite  and  insidious  are  its  tortures.  This  kago  is 
a  shallow  basket  with  a  high  back,  slung  from  a  pole  car- 
ried on  the  shoulders  of  two  men,  and  in  the  mountains 
and  remote  districts  is  the  only  means  of  travel,  except 
by  pack-horses.  The  Japanese  double  their  knees  and 
sit  on  their  feet  with  great  dignity  and  apparent  comfort ; 
but  the  greater  size  of  the  foreigner,  his  stiff  joints  and 
higher  head,  prevent  his  fitting  into  the  kago;  nor  is  he 
much  better  off  when  he  gets  astride,  dangling  his  long 
legs  over  the  edges.  Moreover,  he  not  only  knows  that 
he  looks  ridiculous,  but  suffers  the  pangs  of  conscience 


Chiuzenji  and  Yumoto 

for  imposing  his  weight  on  two  small  coolies  no  larger 
than  the  ten-year-old  boys  of  his  own  land.  There  are 
a  few  arm-chairs  on  poles,  in  which  one  may  ride,  like 
the  Pope,  or  an  idol  in  a  procession,  but  the  long  poles, 
springing  with  the  gait  of  four  bearers,  often  make  the 
passenger  sea-sick. 

The  pack-horse,  a  slow -moving  beast,  has  a  keeper 
who  pulls  him  along  by  a  cord,  his  extended  head  and 
reluctant  gait  making  that  seem  the  only  motive  power. 
Horse  and  leader  wear  straw  shoes,  and  new  pairs  are 
strung  around  the  high  saddle  for  reshoeing  the  beast 
every  few  miles.  Iron  horseshoes  are  confined  to  the 
capital  and  the  large  ports,  and  the  village  blacksmith 
is  unknown.  Pack-horses  wear  a  thick  straw  pad  and  a 
high  saddle  fashioned  like  a  saw-horse,  on  which  the 
rider  sits  aloft,  so  well  forward  that  his  feet  hang  over 
the  creature's  neck.  This  saddle  is  merely  balanced,  not 
girded  on,  and  the  animals  are  so  sleepy,  slow-footed,  and 
stumbling,  with  a  lurching,  swinging  gait  like  a  camel's, 
that  riding  one  is  really  a  feat. 

From  Nikko  to  Chiuzenji  you  must  travel  eight  miles 
by  kago,  pack-horse,  or  jinrikisha,  the  road  leading  past 
rich  fields  of  buckwheat,  millet,  rice,  and  potatoes,  farm- 
houses with  thatched  roofs,  wayside  shrines  and  tea- 
houses. The  ascent  of  the  two  thousand  feet  to  the 
higher  region  of  the  lake  is  chiefly  included  in  one  three- 
mile  stretch,  climbing  by  easy  slopes  and  broad  stair- 
cases to  the  high  pass.  At  every  few  feet  a  stone  step 
was  built,  or  a  tree  trunk  fastened  with  a  forked  stick 
and  set  with  small  stones.  This  stair-building,  done  ages 
ago,  has  become  a  part  of  the  mountain.  At  short  dis- 
tances the  staircase  enters  a  little  clearing  with  a  rustic 
tea-house,  or  the  usual  tateba,  built  of  poles,  a  few  planks, 
branches  or  mats,  and  affording  sufficient  shelter  for 
summer  pilgrims  and  travellers.  The  keepers  imme- 
diately put  out  cushions  for  guests  on  the  edge  of  the 

«6j 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

platform  that  constitutes  the  floor  of  the  one  room,  and 
bring  the  tray  with  its  tiny  tea-pot,  thimble  cups,  and  dish 
of  barley-sugar  candies.  For  the  refreshment  one  leaves 
a  few  coppers  on  the  tray,  and  in  mountain  jaunts,  where 
the  traveller  walks  to  escape  the  kago  and  spare  the  coo- 
lies, these  tiny  cups  of  pale  yellow  tea  are  very  stimu- 
lating. Each  tateba  commands  some  particular  view, 
and  even  the  pilgrim  who  is  tramping  the  provinces  and 
living  on  a  few  cents  a  day,  will  be  found  inditing  poems 
to  the  different  water-falls  and  gorges  he  looks  down  upon. 
The  head  of  the  pass  affords  a  magnificent  view  of  the 
valley  two  thousand  feet  below,  and  presently  the  wood- 
land path  is  following  the  border  of  the  lake  and  comes 
out  into  the  open  of  Chiuzenji  village.  Chiuzenji  Lake, 
three  miles  wide  and  eight  miles  long,  is  surrounded  by 
steep  and  thickly-wooded  mountains,  the  great  Nantaisan 
grandly  soaring  nine  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  taper- 
ing regularly  as  a  pyramid  and  forested  to  the  summit. 
Nantaisan  is  a  sacred  mountain,  a  temple  at  its  foot, 
shrines  all  along  the  ascent,  and  at  the  top  an  altar  on 
which  repentant  murderers  offer  up  their  swords.  Each 
August  come  hosts  of  pilgrims  in  white  clothes  and  huge 
straw  hats,  with  pieces  of  straw  matting  for  rain-coats 
bound  across  their  shoulders — devout  souls,  who,  after 
purification  in  the  lake,  pass  under  the  torii,  say  a  prayer 
in  the  temple,  and  painfully  climb  to  the  summit.  Only 
at  such  fixed  seasons  may  visitors  ascend  the  mountain, 
each  one  paying  twenty  cents  for  the  privilege  of  toiling 
up  its  endless  flight  of  steps.  With  these  fees  the  priests 
keep  the  underbrush  trimmed  and  the  path  well  cleared, 
and  where  the  holy  guardian  unbars  the  gate  and  mo- 
tions one  upward,  begins  the  flight  of  stone  stairs  that 
extend,  with  few  breaks  or  zigzags,  straight  to  the  top. 
The  whole  way  is  strewn  with  the  cast-off  sandals  of  the 
season,  and  great  heaps  of  the  waraji  of  past  years  lie 
here  and  there. 


Chiuzenji  and  Yumoto 

The  pilgrims  sleep  in  Government  barracks  in  the  vil- 
lage, a  few  coppers  securing  a  mat  on  the  floor  and  the 
use  of  the  common  fireplace.  Their  vow  to  Nantaisan 
being  accomplished,  they  make  the  half-circuit  of  the 
lake,  to  visit  the  hidden  shrines  and  temples  of  the  forest 
shores,  and  then  trudge  to  Yumoto  for  its  hot  sulphur 
baths  and  scenery,  or  home  to  their  ripening  rice-fields. 

From  across  the  water  Chiuzenji  village  looks  a  small, 
yellow  patch,  lying  between  the  unbroken  green  slope  of 
Nantaisan  and  the  great  lake.  Its  five  tea-houses  rise 
straight  from  the  water's  edge,  each  with  a  triple  row  of 
outer  galleries  overlooking  it.  The  way  of  life  at  the 
Tsutaya,  Idzumiya,  Nakamarya,  and  the  rest  is  much  more 
Japanese  than  in  the  frequented  inns  of  Nikko.  Chairs 
and  tables  are  conceded  to  foreigners,  but  everybody 
must  sleep  on  the  floor,  wash  face  and  hands  in  the  com- 
mon wash-basin  in  the  open  court,  and  go  about  the  house 
stocking-footed,  or  wear  the  stiff,  heelless,  monkey-skin 
slippers  furnished  by  the  inn.  To  call  a  servant  one 
claps  his  palms,  and  a  long-drawA  "Hei!"  announces 
that  the  rosy-cheeked  mountain  maid  has  heard,  and  the 
gentle  swaying  of  the  house  proclaims  that  she  is  run- 
ning up  the  stairs.  The  washing  of  rice,  vegetables, 
fish,  kitchen  utensils,  and  family  clothing  goes  on  from 
the  single  plank  of  a  pier  running  from  the  lowest  floor 
of  the  house.  Each  inn  has  a  similar  pier,  where  socia- 
ble maidens  chatter  as  they  stir  and  wash  the  rice  in 
bamboo  baskets.  The  servants  of  the  houses  take  the 
whole  lake  for  wash  -  hand  basin  and  tooth  -  brush  cup, 
and  the  pier  is  a  small  stage,  upon  which  these  local 
companies  play  their  unstudied  parts. 

As  the  finest  country  walk  in  England  is  agreed  to 
be  that  from  Stratford  to  Warwick,  so  is  the  way  from 
Chiuzenji  to  Yumoto  the  finest  country  walk  in  Japan, 
for  its  eight  miles  of  infinite  variety.  First,  the  broad 
foot-path  wanders  for  two  miles  along  the  shores  of 

|6; 


yinrikisha  Days  m  yapan 

Lake  Chiuzenji,  which,  however,  appears  only  in  glimpses 
of  placid  blue  through  the  dense  forest,  all  stillness,  cool- 
ness, and  enchantment.  Then  it  emerges  at  the  head  of 
the  lake  in  a  grove  of  pine-trees  sheltering  a  rustic  tea- 
house, which  overlooks  the  bit  of  low  beach  known  as 
the  Iris  Strand,  and  all  the  grand  amphitheatre  of  mount- 
ains walling  in  Chiuzenji.  Farther  on  are  Hell's  River 
and  the  Dragon  Head  cascade,  where  a  mountain  stream 
slides  in  many  a  separate  ribbon  down  mossy  ledges. 
Thence  the  foot-path  climbs  to  a  high  plain  covered  with 
tall  grasses  and  groves  of  lofty  pines — the  famous  Red 
Plain,  dyed  once  with  the  blood  of  a  conquered  army, 
and  tinged  with  each  auttimn's  frost  to  the  same  deep 
hue  again.  From  the  border  of  this  plain  rise  sombre 
mountains,  Nantaisan  a  giant  among  them,  with  green 
and  purple  veils  of  shadows  and  a  crown  of  floating  clouds. 
No  sign  of  habitation  or  cultivation  marks  the  high  plain, 
which,  with  its  loneliness  and  its  scattered  pines,  is  so 
much  like  the  valleys  of  the  high  Sierras.  Everywhere 
else  in  Japan  the  country  is  wooded  and  shaded  and  cul- 
tivated from  water's  edge  to  mountain-top  ;  but  in  win- 
ter all  the  region  above  Nikko  is  deserted,  and  deep 
snows  in  the  passes  shut  it  off  from  the  rest  of  the  world. 
Tea-houses  close,  the  people  flee  to  the  valley  for  warmth, 
and  only  the  coming  of  spring  and  the  tourist  restores  it 
again.  Even  those  wizards,  the  Japanese  farmers,  do 
not  attempt  to  subdue  these  solitudes,  whose  wild  beau- 
ty delights  the  whole  people. 

Beyond  this  lonely  plain  the  way  climbs  seven  hun- 
dred feet  along  the  face  of  a  precipitous  hill  to  the  level 
of  Yumoto  Lake,  which  there  narrows  to  a  few  feet  and 
sHps  down  the  rocks,  a  mass  of  foam,  spray,  and  steam. 
The  lake — small,  uneven,  walled  by  perpendicular  mount- 
ain-slopes and  forests — is  a  still  mirror  of  these  superb 
heights,  one  of  which,  Shirane-san,  is  a  slumbering  vol- 
cano.   Vaporous  sulphur  springs  bubble  through  the  hot 

168 


Chtuzenji  and   Yumoto 

ctust  of  earth  at  the  end  of  the  lake,  and  boiling  sulphur 
wells  up,  even  in  the  bed  of  the  lake  itself,  and  clouds 
and  heats  the  whole  body  of  water  so  that  no  fish  can 
live  there.  The  two  miles  of  winding  forest -path,  be- 
tween the  fall  at  one  end  of  Yumoto  Lake  and  the  village 
of  the  same  name  at  the  opposite  end,  lead  through  an  en- 
chanted forest— a  picturesque  tangle  of  roots  and  rocks, 
covered  with  green  moss,  wound  with  vines,  shaded  with 
ferns,  and  overhung  with  evergreen  branches, 

Yumoto  has  two  streets  and  a  dozen  tea-houses,  whose 
galleries  are  hung  with  red  lanterns,  as  if  in  perpetual 
f6te,  and  an  atmosphere  nearly  all  sulphuretted  hydro- 
gen. One  of  the  hot  springs  bubbles  up  at  the  entrance 
of  the  village,  filling  a  tank  about  ten  feet  square,  cov- 
ered by  a  roof  resting  on  four  corner  pillars.  The  sides 
are  all  open  to  the  air,  and  an  Arcadian  simplicity  of 
bathing  arrangements  prevails.  Citizens  and  sojourners 
stroll  hither,  because  the  site  commands  a  view  of  the 
thoroughfare,  remove  and  fold  up  their  garments,  and 
sit  down  in  the  pool.  When  sufficiently  boiled,  they 
cool  off  occasionally  on  the  edge  of  the  tank,  and  then 
drop  into  the  pool  again.  If  the  company  prove  agree- 
able, the  bath  occupies  hours.  More  open-air  pavilions 
are  at  the  end  of  the  village,  where  more  bronze  figures 
boil  and  cool  themselves  in  the  same  exoteric  fashion. 
The  public  bath  -  houses,  that  alternate  with  the  tea- 
houses in  the  village  streets,  have  roofs  and  sides  of 
solid  wood,  except  the  street  front,  which  is  open  and 
curtainless,  and  within  which  men,  women,  and  children 
meet  in  the  hot-water  tanks,  as  at  the  market-place  or 
street-corners  in  other  countries.  To  a  new-comer  this 
extraordinary  simplicity  is  startling,  but  it  he  stays  long 
enough,  he  finds  that  the  childlike  innocence  and  uncon- 
cern of  the  people  make  a  new  code  of  the  proprieties. 

These  infantile  views  of  the  Japanese  as  to  bathing 
make  even  the  great  pay  little  attention  to  the  seclusion 
I/-  169 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

and  inviolateness  of  the  bath-room.  In  a  high -class 
Japanese  house,  or  at  the  best  tea-houses,  this  is  an 
exquisitely  artistic  nook,  with  cement  walls  and  floors, 
inlaid  with  fantastic  stones  and  bits  of  porcelain.  The 
oval  tubs  are  of  pine,  bound  with  withes,  and  white  with 
scouring.  The  doors  are  generally  sliding  paper  screens 
without  locks,  and  the  wooden  wall,  or  door,  if  there  be 
one,  is  full  of  fantastic  holes  and  tiny  windows  \^ith  no 
curtain.  Often  the  bath-house  is  a  detached  pavilion, 
to  which  you  are  expected  to  walk  in  a  special  bath 
gown,  or  ukata,  meeting,  on  the  way,  household  and 
guests,  who  are  always  ready  for  a  friendly  chat.  Eu- 
ropeans can  hardly  make  a  Japanese  servant  under- 
stand that  in  their  order  of  arrangements,  the  bath  and 
the  bath-room  are  for  the  use  of  one  person  at  a  time. 
The  Japanese  wooden  tub  is  vastly  better  than  the  zinc 
coffins  and  marble  sarcophagi  in  which  we  bathe.  The 
wood  keeps  the  water  hotter  and  is  pleasanter  to  the 
touch.  One  kind  of  tub  has  a  tiny  stove  with  a  long 
pipe  in  one  end,  and  with  a  mere  handful  of  charcoal 
such  a  tub  is  filled  with  boiling  water  in  the  briefest 
time.  Many  bathers  have  lost  their  lives  by  the  carbonic 
acid  gas  sent  off  by  this  ingenious  contrivance.  A  Jap- 
anese hot  bath  is  only  a  point  or  two  from  boiling.  The 
natives  bear  this  temperature  without  wincing,  and  will 
step  from  this  scalding  caldron  out-of-doors,  smoking 
along  the  highway  on  a  frosty  day,  like  the  man  whom 
Dr.  Griffis  describes.  Our  grave  and  statuesque  land- 
lord at  Yumoto,  who  sat  like  a  Buddha  behind  his  low 
table  and  held  court  with  his  minions,  once  appeared  to 
us  stalking  home  in  the  starlight  with  all  his  clothes  on 
his  arm.  His  stride  was  as  stagey  and  majestic  as  ever, 
there  being  no  reason,  in  his  consciousness,  why  he 
should  lay  off  his  dignity  with  his  garments,  they  repre- 
senting to  him  the  temporary  and  accidental,  not  the 
real  envelope  of  the  pompous  old  soul. 


Chiuzenji  and  Yumoto 

At  some  of  the  great  mineral  springs  there  are  now 
separate  pools  for  men  and  women,  in  deference  to  for- 
eign prejudice  ;  but  more  than  one  generation  will  pass 
before  promiscuous  bathing  is  done  away  with. 

At  all  medicinal  springs  the  baths  are  owned  and 
managed  by  the  Government  and  are  free  to  the  people. 
Here  at  Yumoto,  men,  women,  and  children  walk  into 
the  one  large  room  containing  the  pools,  undress,  lay 
their  clothing  in  a  little  heap  on  the  raised  bench  or 
platform  running  around  the  edge  of  the  room,  and  step 
into  the  water ;  and,  as  has  been  said,  no  one  sees  any 
impropriety  in  this  custom.  Women  sit  or  kneel  on  the 
edges  of  the  pool,  scouring  themselves  with  bags  of  rice- 
bran,  and  chattering  with  their  friends  in  or  out  of  the 
water.  People  stop  at  the  open  doors,  or  breast  high 
windows,  to  talk  to  the  bathers,  and  conduct  is  as  deco- 
rous, as  reserved,  and  as  modest  as  in  a  drawing-room. 
The  approach  of  ^  foreigner  sends  all  the  grown  bathers 
deep  into  the  water,  simply  out  of  respect  to  his  artificial 
and  incomprehensible  way  of  looking  at  natural  things. 
They  know,  though  they  cannot  understand,  that  the 
European  finds  something  objectionable,  and  even 
wrong,  in  so  insignificant  a  trifle  as  being  seen  without 
clothes. 

At  our  tea-house  in  Yumoto  our  three  rooms  in  the 
upper  story  were  thrown  into  one  during  the  daytime, 
making  an  apartment  open  to  the  gallery  on  three  sides. 
Hibachis,  or  braziers,  with  mounds  of  glowing  charcoal, 
tempered  the  morning  and  evening  air,  and  all  day  we 
could  sit  on  piles  of  futons,  and  enjoy  the  superb  picture 
of  mountains  and  lake  before  us.  We  were  poled  over 
the  placid  water  in  a  queer  ark  of  a  boat,  and  the  mount- 
ain-paths were  always  alluring,  the  roughest  trail  often 
passing  under  torii,  or  leading  past  some  shrine,  just 
when  it  seemed  that  no  foot  had  ever  preceded  ours. 
At  night,  when  the  chilling  air  presses  the  sulphur  fumes 

»73 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

closer  to  earth,  Yumoto  streets  resound  with  the  wailing 
whistle  of  the  blind  shampooer,  or  amah.  These  amah 
are  found  everywhere — in  the  largest  cities  and  in  the 
smallest  mountain  villages — and,  whether  men  or  women, 
are  never  young,  or  even  middle-aged.  Theirs  is  an  in- 
definite, unscientific  system  of  massage,  and  their  ma- 
nipulations often  leave  their  charges  with  more  lame  and 
aching  muscles  than  before.  But  the  amah  are  an  insti- 
tution of  the  country,  and  Yumoto  streets  would  ring 
with  their  dreary  music,  and  our  screens  would  be  slipped 
aside  by  many  an  ill-favored  crone,  as  soon  as  it  was 
time  for  the  usual  evening  baths  to  be  prepared  at  the 
tea-houses. 

Upon  another  visit  to  Nikko  and  Chiuzenji  in  late 
October  there  was  a  more  splendid  autumnal  pageant 
than  the  most  gorgeous  hill-sides  of  America  had  ever 
shown  me.  Frost  had  done  its  most  wonderful  work, 
and  the  air  was  exhilarating  to  intoxication.  The  clear 
and  brilliant  weather  moved  the  coolies  to  frisk,  play, 
and  chant  like  children — even  that  dignified  little  man, 
Ito,  relaxing  his  gravity  to  frolic  like  a  boy,  and  to  pry 
bowlders  over  the  edges  of  precipices  to  hear  them  crash 
and  fall  far  below,  Chiuzenji  looked  a  vast,  flawless 
sapphire,  and  Nantaisan  was  a  mosaic  of  richest  Byzan- 
tine coloring.  Kegon-no-taki,  the  fall  of  three  hundred 
feet  by  which  the  waters  of  Chiuzenji  drop  to  the  valley 
in  their  race  to  the  Daiyagawa,  seemed  a  column  of  snow 
in  its  little  amphitheatre  hung  with  autumn  vines  and 
branches.  But  we  dared  not  remain,  for  already  Yumo- 
to was  closed  and  boarded  up  for  the  season,  and  on 
any  day  the  first  of  the  blockading  snows  of  winter 
might  shut  the  door  of  the  one  tea-house  left  open  at 
Chiuzenji,  and  end  the  travel  from  the  Ashiwo  copper- 
mines. 


The  Ascent  of  Fujiyama 


CHAPTER   XVII 
THE   ASCENT   OF  FUJIYAMA 

It  was  in  the  third  week  of  July  that  we  made  our 
long-talked-of  ascent  of  Fujiyama.  There  were  nine  of 
us,  all  told,  four  stalwart  men,  three  valiant  women,  and 
two  incomparable  Japanese  boys,  or  valets.  For  forty 
miles  we  steamed  down  the  old  line  of  the  Tokaido, ' 
drawing  nearer  to  the  sea  in  its  deep  indentation  of 
Odawara  Bay,  and  to  the  blue  bar  of  the  Hakone  range 
that  fronts  the  ocean.  At  Kodzu  we  took  wagonettes 
and  rattled  over  the  plain  and  up  a  valley  along  the  To- 
kaido, children  being  snatched  from  under  the  heels  of 
the  horses,  and  coolies,  with  poles  and  baskets  over  their 
shoulders,  getting  entangled  with  the  wheels  all  the  way. 
A  Japanese  driver  is  a  most  reckless  Jehu,  and  the 
change  to  jinrikishas,  after  the  wild  ten-mile  charge  up 
the  valley,  was  beatific.  Ascending  a  narrow  canon,  and 
rounding  curve  after  curve,  we  saw  at  last  the  many 
lights  of  Miyanoshita  twinkling  against  the  sky. 

Miyanoshita,  the  great  summer  resort,  is  the  delight 
alike  of  Japanese  and  foreigner.  It  has  excellent  hotels 
kept  in  western  fashion,  clear  mountain  air,  mineral 
springs  and  beautiful  scenery,  and  it  is  the  very  centre 
of  a  most  interesting  region.  All  the  year  round  its  ho- 
tels are  well  patronized,  the  midwinter  climate  being  a 
specific  for  the  malarial  poison  of  the  ports  of  southern 
China.  Famous,  too,  is  the  wooden -ware  of  Miyano- 
shita, where  every  house  is  a  shop  for  the  sale  of  Japan- 
ese games,  household  utensils,  toys  and  trifles,  all  made 
of  the  beautifully-grained  native  woods,  polished  on  a 


Jtnrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

wheel  with  vegetable  wax.  Exquisite  mosaics  of  a  hun- 
dred broken  patterns  amaze  one  with  their  nicety  of 
finish  and  cheapness,  and  no  one  escapes  from  the  vil- 
lage without  buying. 

Guides  and  coolies  had  been  engaged  for  us  at  Miya- 
noshita,  and  at  six  o'clock,  on  the  morning  after  our  arri- 
val, the  three  kagos  of  the  ladies  were  carried  out,  and 
the  four  cavaliers,  the  two  boys,  and  six  baggage  coolies 
followed.  The  broad  path  zigzagged  upward  to  the 
narrow,  knife-edge  ride  of  the  mountain  range  known 
as  the  O  Tomi  Toge  pass.  From  its  summit  we  looked 
back  along  the  checkered  green  valley  to  Miyanoshita 
and  Hakone  Lake,  with  the  Emperor's  island  palace. 
Looking  forward  across  a  checkered  plain,  we  saw  Fuji- 
yama rise  straight  before  us,  its  obstinate  head  still 
hidden  in  clouds.  Dropping  quickly  to  the  level  of  the 
plain,  we  reached  Gotemba,  and,  changing  to  jinrikishas, 
were  whirled  away  to  Subashiri,  six  miles  distant. 

Trains  of  descending  pilgrims  and  farmers,  perched 
high  on  the  backs  of  pack-horses,  smiled  cheerfully  at 
the  procession  of  foreigners  bound  for  Fuji,  and  at  each 
rest-house  on  the  way  women  and  children,  petrified 
with  astonishment,  stood  staring  at  us.  Black  cinders 
and  blocks  of  lava  announced  the  nearness  of  the  vol- 
cano, and  the  road  became  an  inky  trail  of  coal-dust 
through  green  fields.  Banks  of  scoriae,  like  the  heaps  of 
coal-dust  around  collieries,  cropped  out  by  the  road-side, 
and  the  wheels  ground  noisily  through  the  loose,  coarse 
slag.  The  whole  of  Subashiri,  crowding  the  picturesque 
street  of  a  typical  Japanese  village,  welcomed  us.  In 
the  stream  of  running  water,  on  either  side  of  the  broad 
highway  danced,  whirled,  and  spouted  a  legion  of  me- 
chanical toys,  some  for  the  children's  pleasure,  and 
others  turning  the  fly-brushes  hung  over  counters  of 
cakes  and  sweetmeats.     The  place  looks  in  perpetual 

fete,  with  the  hundreds  of  pilgrim  flags  and  towels  flut- 

176 


The  Ascent  of  Fujiyama 

tering  from  each  tea-house,  and  at  the  end  of  the  street 
is  a  torii,  leading  to  an  ancient  temple  in  a  grove^  where 
all  Fuji  pilgrims  pray  before  beginning  the  ascent  of  the 
mountain.  In  the  light  of  the  afternoon,  the  double 
row  of  thatched  houses  and  the  street  full  of  bareheaded 
villagers  looked  like  a  well-painted  stage  scene.  Mean- 
while the  sun  sank,  and  in  the  last  crimson  glow  of  its 
fading  the  clouds  rolled  away,  and  Fuji's  stately  cone 
stood  over  us,  its  dark  slopes  turning  to  rose  and  violet 
in  the  changing  light. 

We  rose  with  the  sun  at  four  o'clock,  looked  at  Fuji, 
all  pink  and  lilac  in  the  exquisite  atmosphere  of  the 
morning,  snatched  a  hasty  breakfast  and  set  off,  the 
women  in  their  kagos  and  the  men  on  mettlesome  steeds 
that  soon  took  them  out  of  sight  along  the  broad  cin- 
dery  avenue  leading  to  the  base  of  the  slanting  mount- 
ain. In  that  clear  light  Fuji  looked  twice  its  twelve 
thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and  the  thought  of  toiling 
on  foot  up  the  great  slope  was  depressing.  Instead  of  a 
fifteen-mile  walk,  it  looked  fifty  miles  at  least.  All  along 
the  forest  avenue  moss  grown  stone  posts  mark  the  dis- 
tance, and  at  one  place  are  the  remains  of  a  stone  wall 
and  lantern-guarded  gate-way  setting  the  limit  of  the 
mountain's  holy  ground.  From  that  point  the  soil  is 
sacred,  although  horses  and  kagos  are  allowed  to  go  a 
mile  farther  to  a  mat-shed  station,  known  as  Umagaye- 
shi  (Turn  Back  Horse).  Thence  the  great  Fuji  sweeps 
continuously  upward,  and  a  tall  torii  at  the  head  of  the 
stone  staircase  marks  the  beginning  of  the  actual  as- 
cent, the  holy  ground  on  which  only  sandaled  feet  may 
tread. 

In  the  mat-shed  the  kagos  were  stored  for  a  two  days' 
rest,  luggage  was  divided  and  tied  on  the  backs  of  the 
coolies,  who  were  as  gayly  fringed  as  Indians  on  the 
war-path,  with  the  many  pairs  of  straw  sandals  tied  at 
their  waists  and  hanging  from  their  packs.     The  coarse 


"Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

cinders  cut  through_boot-soles  so  quickly  that  foreigners 
tie  on  these  waraji  to  protect  their  shoes,  allowing  eight 
pairs  of  the  queer  galoshes  for  the  ascent  and  descent 
of  Fuji.  From  Umagayeshi,  the  path  goes  up  through 
woods  and  stunted  underbrush  and  on  over  bare  cin- 
der and  lava,  pursuing  the  even  slope  of  the  mountain 
without  dip  or  zigzag  to  break  the  steady  climb.  Three 
small  Shinto  temples  in  the  woods  invite  pilgrims  to 
pray,  pay  tribute,  and  have  their  staff  and  garments 
marked  with  a  sacred  seal.  Beyond  these  temples,  ten 
rest-houses,  or  stations,  stand  at  even  distances  along 
the  path,  the  first,  or  number  one,  at  the  edge  of  the 
woods,  and  the  tenth  at  the  summit.  Priests  and  sta- 
tion-keepers open  their  season  late  in  June,  before  the 
snow  is  gone,  and  close  in  September.  In  the  midsum- 
mer weeks  the  whole  mountain-side  is  musical  with  the 
tinkling  bells  and  staffs  of  lines  of  white-clad  pilgrims. 
Notwithstanding  their  picturesqueness,  these  devotees 
are  objectionable  companions,  as  they  fill  tea-houses 
and  mountain  stations,  devour  everything  eatable,  like 
swarms  of  locusts,  and  bear  about  with  them  certain 
smaller  pilgrims  that  make  life  a  burden  to  him  who  fol- 
lows after.  Nearly  thirty  thousand  pilgrims  annually 
ascend  Fujiyama.  These  pious  palmers  are  chiefly  from 
the  agricultural  class,  and  they  form  mutual  pilgrimage 
associations,  paying  small  annual  dues,  from  the  sum  of 
which  each  member  in  turn  has  his  expenses  defrayed. 
They  travel  in  groups,  each  man  furnished  with  his  bit 
of  straw  matting  for  bed,  rain-coat,  or  shelter.  They 
carry,  also,  cotton  towels  marked  with  the  crest  of  their 
pilgrim  society,  to  be  hung,  after  using,  at  temple  water- 
tanks,  or  as  advertisements  of  their  presence  at  the  tea- 
houses which  they  patronize.  At  each  new  shrine  they 
visit  the  priests  stamp  their  white  clothing  with  the  red 
seal  of  the  temple. 

Fujiyama  is  invested  with  legends,  which  these  pil- 
178 


The  Ascent  of  Fujiyama 

grims  unquestioningly  accept.  It  is  said  to  have  risen 
up  in  a  single  night  two  thousand  years  ago,  when  a 
great  depression  appeared  to  the  southward,  which  the 
waters  of  Lake  Biwa  immediately  filled.  For  a  thousand 
years  pilgrims  have  toiled  up  the  weary  path  to  pray  at 
the  highest  shrine  and  to  supplicate  the  sun  at  dawn. 
Fuji-san,  the  goddess  of  the  mountain,  hated,  it  is  said, 
her  own  sex,  and  stories  of  devils,  who  seize  women  and 
fly  off  into  the  air  with  them,  still  deter  all  but  the  most 
emancipated  Japanese  women  from  making  the  ascent. 
It  was  after  Fuji-san  had  quarrelled  with  all  the  other 
gods  that  she  set  up  this  lofty  mountain  of  her  own, 
where  she  might  live  alone  and  in  peace.  No  horse's 
foot  is  allowed  to  fall  on  the  steep  approaches  to  her 
cloudy  throne,  and  even  the  sand  and  cinders  are  so 
sacred,  that  whatever  dust  is  carried  down  on  the  pil- 
grims' feet  by  day  is  miraculously  returned  by  night. 
Even  to  dream  of  the  peerless  mountain  is  a  promise  of 
good-fortune,  and  Fuji,  with  the  circling  storks  and  the 
ascending  dragon,  symbolizes  success  in  life  and  tri- 
umph over  obstacles. 

Until  the  year  1500,  Fuji  wore  a  perpetual  smoke- 
wreath,  and  every  century  saw  a  great  eruption.  The 
last,  in  1707,  continued  for  a  month,  and  threw  out  the 
loose  cinders,  ashes,  and  lumps  of  baked  red  clay  that 
still  cover  the  mountain.  Ashes  were  carried  fifty  miles, 
damming  a  river  in  their  path,  covering  the  plain  at  its 
base  six  feet  deep  with  cinders,  and  forming  an  excres- 
cence on  the  north  side,  which  still  mars  the  perfect 
symmetry  of  the  cone. 

Umagayeshi,  or  Turn  Back  Horse,  is  four  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea,  and  the  other  eight  thousand  feet 
are  surmounted  in  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles.  We  de- 
sired to  reach  Station  Eight  by  four  o'clock  ;  either  to 
sleep  there  until  three  o'clock  the  next  morning,  or  to 
push  on  to  the  tenth  and  last  station,  rest  there,  and  see 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

the  sun  rise,  from  the  door-way  of  that  summit  rest- 
house.  Our  two  Colorado  mountaineers  had  faced  the 
slope  like  chamois,  and  were  leaping  the  rocks  walling 
the  first  station,  before  the  female  contingent  had  left 
the  torii.  Of  the  fifteen  coolies  accompanying  us,  three 
were  assigned  to  each  woman,  with  orders  to  take  her  to 
the  top  if  they  had  to  carry  her  pickaback.  After  an 
established  Fuji  fashion,  one  coolie  went  first  with  a 
rope  fastened  around  the  climber's  waist,  while  another 
pushed  her  forward.  Aided  still  further  by  tall  bamboo 
staffs,  we  were  literally  hauled  and  boosted  up  the 
mountain,  with  only  the  personal  responsibility  of  lift- 
ing our  feet  out  of  the  ashes. 

For  the  first  three  or  four  miles,  the  path  led  through 
a  dense,  green  bower,  carpeted  with  vines,  and  starred 
with  wild  flowers  and  great  patches  of  wild  strawberries. 
Scaling  moss-covered  log  steps,  we  passed  through  tem- 
ples with  gohei,  or  prayer  papers,  hanging  from  the  gates 
and  doors,  and  bare  Shinto  altars  within.  At  one  shrine, 
the  sound  of  our  approaching  footsteps  was  the  signal 
for  blasts  from  a  conch-shell  horn  and  thumps  on  the 
hanging  drum,  and  the  priests,  in  their  purple  and  white 
gowns  and  black  pasteboard  hats,  gave  us  a  cheerful 
welcome,  and  many  cups  of  hot  barley-tea.  At  our  re- 
quest, they  stamped  our  clothmg  with  big  red  charac- 
ters, the  sacred  seal  or  crest  of  that  holy  station,  and 
sold  us  the  regulation  pilgrim's  staff,  branded  with  the 
temple  mark.  The  old  priest,  to  dazzle  us  with  his  ac- 
quirements, and  to  show  his  familiarity  with  foreign 
customs,  glibly  placed  the  price  of  the  alpenstock  at 
"  Sen  tents." 

The  forest  ended  as  suddenly  as  if  one  had  stepped 
from  a  door-way,  and  a  sloping  dump  of  bare  lava  and 
cinders  stretched  upward  endlessly;  the  whole  cone  vis- 
ible, touched  with  scudding  bits  of  thin  white  clouds. 
Every  dike  and  seam  of  lava  between  the  forest  edge 


The  Ascent  of  Fujiyama 

and  the  summit  was  clearly  seen,  and  the  square  blocks 
of  rest-houses,  though  miles  away,  stood  out  on  the  great 
ash-heap  as  if  one  could  touch  them.  It  was  apparent 
that  the  walk  would  be  merely  a  matter  of  persever- 
ance. There  are  no  dizzy  precipices,  no  dangerous 
rocks,  no  hand-over-hand  struggles,  nor  narrow  ledges, 
nor  patches  of  slippery  stone — only  a  steadily  ascending 
cinder  path  to  tread.  Above  the  forest  line,  nothing  in- 
terrupts the  wide  views  in  every  direction,  and  the  goal 
is  in  plain  sight. 

After  we  had  passed  the  third  station,  the  scudding 
clouds  closed  in  and  hid  the  summit,  and  we  trudged 
along,  congratulating  ourselves  on  our  escape  from  the 
glaring  sun  while  we  were  out  on  the  open  lava  slope. 
Station  Number  Four  was  closed  and  its  roof  in  partial 
ruins,  where  a  rolling  stone  had  crashed  in  during  the 
winter,  but  at  the  next  two  huts  we  rested,  in  company 
with  a  sturdy  mountaineer,  his  wife  and  baby,  who  were 
going  up  to  open  Station  Number  Nine  for  the  summer. 
The  baby  was  strapped  on  its  father's  back,  its  little 
bare  toes  sticking  out  from  its  tight  swaddling-gown  and 
curling  up  in  comical  balls  as  the  wind  grew  colder. 
Our  two  veterans  of  Pike's  Peak  were  far  ahead,  merely 
white  spots  on  the  dark,  chocolate-brown  slope,  but  we 
all  intended  to  overtake  them  and  come  in  with  them  at 
the  end  of  the  day. 

Suddenly  the  drifting  clouds  swept  down,  curling  along 
the  dark  lava,  like  steam,  and  wrapping  us  in  a  gray 
mist  that  blotted  out  everything.  Another  gust  of  wind 
brought  a  dash  of  rain,  and  hurried  us  to  the  lee  wall  of 
a  closed  hut  for  shelter.  The  shower  came  harder  and 
faster,  and  the  baggage  -  coolies  with  water -proofs  and 
umbrellas  were  far  in  advance,  invisible  in  the  mist.  We 
pushed  on,  and  after  climbing  a  hundred  yards  in  loose 
ashes,  found  ourselves  on  the  sliding  track  of  the  de- 
scent.   We  struck  away  blindly  to  the  right  and  mounted 

i8i 


yinrtkisha  Days  in  Japan 

straight  upward.  A  seam  of  hard  lava  soon  gave  us 
secure  foothold,  but  presently  became  a  net-work  of  tiny 
cascades.  My  cheerful  little  coolie,  in  his  saturated  cot- 
ton suit,  tried  to  encourage  me,  and  passing  the  rope 
around  a  horn  of  lava  at  one  breathing-stop,  pointed  up- 
ward, and  assured  me  that  there  was  clear  sunshine 
above.  Glancing  along  the  sloping  lava-track,  we  saw  a 
foaming  crest  of  water  descending  from  those  sunny  up- 
lands, and  had  barely  time  to  cross  its  path  before  the 
roaring  stream  came  on  and  cut  off  retreat. 

After  two  hours  of  hard  climbing  in  the  blinding  rain 
and  driving  wind,  we  reached  the  shelter  of  Station  Num- 
ber Eight,  chilled  and  exhausted.  This  hut,  a  log-cabin 
faced  with  huge  lava  blocks,  its  low  roof  held  down  by 
many  bowlders,  and  its  walls  five  feet  in  thickness,  con- 
sists of  one  room  about  twelve  by  thirty  feet  in  size. 
Two  doors  looked  sheer  down  the  precipitous  mountain- 
slope,  and  a  deep  window,  like  that  of  a  fortress,  was  set 
in  the  end  wall.  The  square  fireplace,  sunken  in  the 
floor,  had  its  big  copper  kettle  swinging  from  a  crane, 
and  the  usual  stone  frame  for  the  rice-kettle.  When  the 
doors  were  barred  and  braced  with  planks  against  the 
fury  of  the  storm,  the  smoke,  unable  to  escape,  nearly 
blinded  us.  Our  dripping  garments  and  the  coolies' 
wet  cotton  clothes  were  hung  to  dry  on  the  rafters  over 
the  fireplace,  where  they  slowly  dripped.  The  master 
of  Number  Eight  had  opened  his  rest-house  only  five 
days  before,  and  with  his  young  son  and  two  servants 
found  himself  called  on  to  provide  for  us  with  our  ret- 
inue of  seventeen  servants,  for  four  young  cadets  from 
the  naval  college  in  Tokio,  storm -bound  on  their  way 
down  the  mountain,  and  a  dozen  pilgrims — forty -two 
people  in  all. 

Warmed,  and  comforted  with  a  stray  sandwich,  we 
were  glad  enough  to  go  to  bed.  Each  of  us  received 
two  futons,  one  of  which  made  the  mattress  and  the 

182 


The  Descent  of  Fujiyatna 

other  the  covering,  while  basket-lids  served  for  pillows. 
The  floor  was  cold  as  well  as  hard,  and  the  rows  of  cot- 
ton towels  hung  on  the  walls  by  preceding  pilgrims  flut- 
tered in  the  draughts  from  the  howling  blasts  that  shook 
the  solid  little  hut.  The  shriek  and  roar  and  mad  rushes 
of  wind  were  terrifying,  and  we  were  by  no  means  cer- 
tain that  the  little  stone  box  would  hold  together  until 
morning.  One  hanging-lamp  shed  a  fantastic  light  on 
the  rows  of  heads  under  the  blue  futons,  and  the  still- 
ness of  the  Seven  Sleepers  presently  befell  the  lonely 
shelter. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 
THE    DESCENT   OF    FUJIYAMA 


From  Saturday  until  Tuesday,  three  endless  days  and 
as  many  nights,  the  whirling  storm  kept  us  prisoners  in 
the  dark,  smoke  filled  rest-house.  What  had  been  the 
amusing  incidents  of  one  stormy  night  became  our  in- 
tolerable routine  of  life.  Escape  was  impossible,  even 
for  the  hardy  mountaineers  and  pilgrims  at  the  other 
end  of  the  hut,  and  to  unbar  the  door  for  a  momentary 
outlook  threatened  the  demolition  of  the  shelter.  A 
tempest  at  sea  was  not  more  awful  in  its  fury,  but  our 
ears  became  finally  accustomed  to  the  roar  and  hiss  of 
the  wind,  and  the  persistent  blows  it  dealt  the  structure. 
The  grave  problem  of  provisioning  the  place  in  time 
confronted  us,  and  after  our  one  day's  luncheon  was 
exhausted,  it  became  a  question  how  long  the  master 
of  the  station  could  provide  even  fish  and  rice  for  forty 
people. 

The  two  boys,  or  valets,  brought  by  their  sybarite 
masters,  like  all  Japanese  servants  out  of  their  grooves, 

•83 


Jmriklsha  Days  in  Japan 

were  utterly  helpless,  and  lay  supine  in  their  corners, 
covered,  head  and  all,  with  futons.  The  altitude,  the  cold, 
or  the  dilemma  paralyzed  their  usually  nimble  faculties, 
and  our  coolies  were  far  more  useful.  We  could  not 
stand  upright  under  the  heavy  beams  of  the  roof,  and  as 
the  floor  planks  had  been  taken  up  here  and  there  to 
brace  the  doors  with,  walking  was  difficult  in  that  dark 
abode.  While  we  grew  impatient  in  our  cage,  the  four 
little  naval  cadets  sat,  or  lay,  quietly  in  their  futons,  hour 
after  hour,  talking  as  cheerfully  as  if  the  sun  were  shin- 
ing, their  prospects  hopeful,  and  their  summer  suits  of 
white  duck  designed  for  the  Eighth  Station's  phenome- 
nal climate.  Throughout  our  incarceration  the  coolies 
dozed  and  waked  under  their  futons,  sitting  up  only  long 
enough  to  eat,  or  play  some  childish  game,  and  dropping 
back  to  reckon  how  much  per  diem  would  accrue  to 
them  without  an  equivalent  of  work.  When  we  found 
that  the  smoky  fireplace  offered  some  warmth,  we  sat 
around  the  sunken  box  with  our  feet  in  the  ashes  and 
handkerchiefs  to  our  eyes  to  keep  out  the  blinding  smoke. 
In  that  intimate  circle  we  learned  the  cook's  secrets, 
and  watched  him  shaving  off  his  billets  of  dried  fish  with 
a  plane,  stewing  them  with  mushrooms  and  seasoning 
with  soy  and  sake.  This  compound  we  found  so  good 
that  our  flattered  landlord  brought  out  hot  sake  and  in- 
sisted on  an  exchange  of  healths.  We  noticed  that  in 
the  midst  of  this  hospitality  he  went  and  made  some  of- 
fering or  other  at  his  little  household  altar,  and,  writing 
something  in  a  book,  returned  more  benign  and  friendly 
than  ever.  The  preparation  of  red  bean  and  barley  soups, 
two  sweetened  messes  that  only  a  Japanese  could  eat, 
and  the  boiling  of  rice  seemed  never  to  stop.  Twice  a 
day  the  big  copper  caldron  was  set  on  its  stone  frame 
half  full  of  boiling  water.  When  it  bubbled  most  furi- 
ously over  a  brushwood  fire,  a  basketful  of  freshly  washed 
and  soaked  rice  was  poured  in.    In  a  half-houi  the  cal- 

1S4 


The  Descent  of  Fujiyama 

dron  was  filled  to  the  top  with  the  full,  snowy  grains, 
ready  for  the  chopsticks  of  the  waiting  company. 

Each  night  the  master  of  the  hut  prophesied  clear 
weather  at  five  o'clock  irt  the  morning,  and  each  morn- 
ing he  prophesied  clear  weather  for  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  but  the  wind  howled,  the  sleet  swept  by  in 
clouds,  and  hail  rattled  noisily  on  roof  and  walls.  'I'he 
second  afternoon  the  master  of  the  summit  rest-hut  ap- 
peared at  the  window,  and,  more  dead  than  aiive,  was 
drawn  in  by  the  excited  coolies,  who  helped  chafe  his 
limbs  and  pour  cups  of  hot  sake  between  his  lips.  The 
story  of  his  battle  with  the  storm  on  the  open,  wind- 
swept cone  satisfied  us  all  to  wait  for  the  clearing.  An 
empty  rice-box  had  forced  him"  to  attempt  the  journey 
to  revictual  his  station,  and  we  wondered  how  soon 
our  landlord  would  be  compelled  to  the  same  desperate 
effort. 

On  the  third  morning  the  visiting  boniface  and  four 
wood -choppers  decided  to  attempt  the  descent,  and 
when  the  door  was  unbarred,  the  pale  daylight  and  a 
changed  wind,  that  entered  the  dim  cave  where  we  had 
been  imprisoned,  foretold  a  clearing  sky.  As  the  clouds 
lifted,  we  could  see  for  miles  down  the  wet  and  glisten- 
ing mountain  to  a  broad,  green  plain,  sparkling  with 
flashing  diamonds  of  lakes,  and  gaze  down  a  sheer  ten 
thousand  feet  to  the  level  of  the  sea.  It  was  a  view 
worth  the  three  days  of  waiting.  The  summit  loomed 
clear  and  close  at  hand,  and  our  western  mountaineers 
made  two  thousand  feet  of  ascent  in  thirty  minutes,  the 
rest  of  us  following  in  a  more  deliberate  procession,  as 
befitted  the  altitude.  The  coolies,  in  bright  yellow  oil- 
paper capes  and  hats,  trooped  after  us  like  a  flock  of 
canaries,  gayly  decorating  the  dark  lava  paths.  At  the 
edge  of  the  summit,  on  the  rim  of  the  crater,  we  passed 
under  a  torii,  climbed  steep  lava  steps  and  entered  the 
last  station  —  a  low,  dark,  wretched,  little  wind-swept 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

cabin,  with  one  small   door  and  a  ten -inch  fireplace, 
where  sake  was  warming  for  us. 

Hardly  had  we  arrived  when  the  wind  rose,  the  clouds 
shut  down,  and  again  the  rain  drove  in  dense  and  whirl- 
ing sheets.  The  adventurous  ones,  who  liad  pushed  on 
to  the  edge  of  the  crater  to  look  in,  were  obliged  to 
creep  back  to  safety  on  their  hands  and  knees,  for  fear 
of  being  swept  oyer  into  that  cauldron  of  boiling  clouds 
and  mist.  It  was  no  time  to  make  the  circuit  of  the  cra- 
ter's rim  with  its  many  shrines,  or  descend  the  path-way, 
guarded  by  torii,  to  the  crater's  bed.  We  hurried  through 
the  formalities  at  the  temple,  where  the  benumbed  priest 
branded  the  alpenstocks,  stamped  our  handkerchiefs 
and  clothing,  and  gave  us  pictured  certificates  of  our 
ascent  to  that  point.  Then  began  a  wild  sliding  and 
plunging  down  a  shoot  of  loose  cinders  to  Station  Num- 
ber Eight,  where  the  landlord  produced  a  book  and  read 
our  three-days'  board  bill  from  a  record  of  many  pages. 
Everything  was  chanted  out  by  items,  even  to  the  sake 
and  mushrooms  that  had  been  pressed  upon  us  as  a 
courtesy,  and  it  was  only  after  many  appeals  for  the  sum 
total  that  he  instinctively  ducked  his  head  and  named 
fifty-eight  dollars  for  the  seven  of  us.  Then  ensued  a 
deafening  attack  of  remonstrances  from  men  and  valets, 
threats  and  invectives  in  Japanese  and  English,  lasting 
until  the  inn-keeping  Shylock  agreed  to  take  thirty  dol- 
lars, received  this  moiety  cheerfully,  and  bade  us  adieu 
with  many  protestations  of  esteem. 

Rubber  and  gossamer  rain- cloaks  were  worse  than 
useless  in  that  whirlwind,  and  haste  was  our  one  neces- 
sity. Dress  skirts  were  sodden  and  leaden  masses,  and 
mine  being  hung  as  an  offering  to  Fuji-san,  a  red  Navajo 
blanket  replaced  it,  and  enveloped  me  completely.  A 
yellow -clad  coolie  securely  fastened  his  rope,  and  we 
slipped,  and  plunged,  and  rolled  down  a  shoot  of  loose 
cinders.     Sinking  ankle-deep,  we  travelled  as  if  on  run- 

186 


The  Descent  of  Fujiyama 

ners  through  the  wet  ashes,  sliding  down  in  minutes 
stretches  that  it  had  taken  us  as  many  hours  to  ascend, 
and  stopping  only  at  one  or  two  rest-houses  for  cups  of 
hot  tea,  while  we  staggered  and  stumbled  on  through 
rain  that  came  ever  harder  and  faster. 

At  Umagayeshi,  where  the  dripping  party  waited  for 
more  tea,  the  sun  came  gayly  out  and  seemed  to  laugh 
at  our  plight.  The  sudden  warmth,  the  greenhouse  steam 
and  softness,  were  most  grateful  to  us  after  our  hard- 
ships in  the  clouds.  At  Subashiri  we  put  on  the  few 
dry  garments  we  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  leave  be- 
hind us.  The  tea-house  windows  framed  vignettes  of 
Fuji,  a  clear  blue  and  purple  cone  in  a  radiant,  cloud- 
dappled  sky.  With  the  prospect  of  a  hot  day  to  follow, 
it  was  decided  to  push  on  to  Miyanoshita,  travelling  all 
night,  the  kagos  being  as  comfortable  as  the  flea-infested 
tea-house,  and  the  men  of  our  party  being  obliged  to 
walk  on  until  they  reached  dry  boots  and  clothes. 
Though  the  coolies  grumbled,  stormed,  and  appealed, 
they  had  enjoyed  three  days  of  absolute  rest  and  full 
pay  at  Number  Eight,  and  the  walk  of  forty-five  miles, 
from  the  summit  to  Miyanoshita,  is  not  an  unusual  jaunt 
for  them  to  make. 

At  Gotemba's  tea-house  we  found  our  companions  in 
misfortune — the  little  midshipmen — whom  we  joined  in 
feasting  on  what  the  house  could  offer.  The  old  women 
in  attendance,  yellow  and  wrinkled  as  the  crones  of  ivory 
netsukes,  were  vastly  interested  in  our  Fuji  experiences 
and  dilapidated  costumes,  and  gave  us  rice,  fish,  sponge- 
cake, tea,  and  sak^.  At  midnight  we  roused  the  coolies 
from  their  five-hour  rest,  and  prepared  for  the  fifteen-mile 
journey  over  O  TomJ  Toge  pass.  The  little  midshipmen 
slid  the  screens  and  beclconed  us  up  to  the  liliputian  bal- 
cony again.  "It  is  the  night  Fuji''  said  one  of  them, 
softly,  pointing  to  the  dark  violet  cone,  striped  with 
its  ghostly  snow,  and  illuminated  by  a  shrunken  yel- 

187 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

low  moon  that  hung  fantastic  above  O  Tomi  Toge's 
wall. 

With  our  conamander-in-chief  perched  high  on  a  pack- 
horse,  whose  chair-like  saddle  left  his  rider's  heels  rest- 
ing on  the  neck  of  the  animal,  and  the  kago  coolies 
slipping  and  floundering  through  the  bottomless  mud  of 
the  roads,  we  once  more  started  on  our  way.  The  whole 
country  was  dark,  silent,  and  deserted,  and  the  only  au- 
dible sound  was  the  chatter  of  our  army  of  coolies,  who 
chirped  and  frolicked  like  boys  out  of  school.  The  night 
air  over  the  rice-fields  was  warm  and  heavy,  and  seemed 
to  suffocate  us,  and  fire-flies  drifted  in  and  out  among 
the  rushes  and  bamboos.  Deep,  roaring  streams  filled 
the  channels  that  had  been  mere  silver  threads  of  wa- 
ter a  few  days  before.  The  coolies  could  barely  keep 
their  footing  as  they  waded  waist-deep  in  the  rush- 
ing water,  and  at  every  ford  we  half  expected  to  be 
drowned. 

At  the  summit  of  the  pass  we  dismounted,  and  the 
coolies  scattered  for  a  long  rest.  The  sacred  mountain 
was  clear  and  exquisite  in  the  pale  gray  of  dawn  ;  and 
while  we  watied  to  see  the  sun  rise  on  Fuji,  a  dirty- 
brown  fog  scudded  in  from  the  sea,  crossed  the  high 
moon,  and  instantly  the  plain  faded  from  view  and  we 
were  left,  isolated  Brocken  figures,  to  eat  our  four-o'clock 
breakfast  of  dry  bread  and  chocolate,  and  return  to  the 
kagos.  Everywhere  we  encountered  traces  of  a  heavy 
storm,  the  path  being  gullied  and  washed  into  a  deep 
ditch  with  high  banks,  whose  heavy-topped,  white  lilies 
brushed  into  the  kagos  as  we  passed.  Half  asleep,  we 
watched  the  green  panorama  unfolding  as  we  descended, 
and  at  eight  o'clock  we  were  set  down  in  Miyanoshita, 
Nesans  ran  hither  and  thither  excitedly,  to  bring  coffee 
and  toast,  to  prepare  baths,  produce  the  luggage  we  had 
left  behind,  and  mildly  rehearse  to  the  other  domestics 
the  astonishing  story  of  our  adventures.     By  noon,  when 


The  Tokaido 

we  came  forth  arrayed  in  the  garb  of  civilization,  we 
were  heroes. 

For  weeks  after  we  returned  to  the  plain,  the  treach- 
erous Fujiyama  stood  unusually  clear  and  near  at  hand. 
"  The  summer  Fuji,"  its  dark-brown  slopes  only  touched 
with  a  fine  line  or  two  of  snow,  is  less  beautiful  than 
"the  winter  Fuji,"  with  its  glistening  crown;  and  our 
Mount  Rainier,  whose  snows  are  eternal,  whose  wooded 
slopes  shadow  the  dark-green  waters  of  Puget  Sound,  is 
lovelier  still.  But  though  we  have  the  more  glorious 
mountain,  the  snow,  the  rocks,  the  forest,  we  have  not 
the  people  instinct  with  love  of  poetry  and  nature ;  we 
have  not  the  race-refinement,  and  the  race-traditions, 
that  would  make  of  it  another  Fuji,  invested  with  the 
light  of  dream  and  legend,  dear  and  near  to  every  heart. 


CHAPTER   XIX 
THE  TOKAIDO — I 


As  the  kago  gave  way  to  the  jinrikisha,  the  jinrikisha 
disappears  before  the  steam-engine,  which  reduces  a  ri  to 
a  cho,  and  extends  the  empire  of  the  commonplace.  The 
first  railroads,  built  by  English  engineers  and  equipped 
with  English  rolling-stock,  have  been  copied  by  the  Jap- 
anese engineers,  who  have  directed  the  later  works.  The 
Tokaido  railway  line,  built  from  both  ends,  put  Tokio 
and  Kioto  within  twenty-four  hours  of  each  other.  The 
forty  miles  of  railroad  between  Yokohama  and  Kodzu 
were  completed  in  1887,  bringing  Miyanoshita,  a  long 
day's  journey  distant,  within  three  hours  of  the  great  sea- 
port. The  long  tunnels  and  difficult  country  around  Fu- 
jiyama, and  the  expensive  engineering  work  at  each  river 

.89 


Jinriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

delayed  the  opening  of  the  whole  line  until  1889.  Before 
the  iron  horse  had  cleared  all  picturesqueness  from  the 
region  three  of  us  made  the  jinrikisha  journey  down  the 
Tokaido. 

The  Tokaido  having  been  the  great  post-road  and 
highway  of  the  empire  for  centuries,  with  daimios  and 
their  trains  constantly  travelling  between  the  two  capi- 
tals, its  villages  and  towns  were  most  important,  and  each 
supplied  accommodations  for  every  class  of  travellers. 
All  the  world  knew  the  names  of  the  fifty-three  post  sta- 
tions on  the  route,  and  there  is  a  common  game,  which 
consists  in  quickly  repeating  them  in  their  order  back- 
ward or  forward.  As  the  railroad  touched  or  left  them, 
some  of  the  towns  grew,  others  dwindled,  and  new  places 
sprang  up.  Each  village  used  to  have  its  one  special  oc- 
cupation, and  to  ride  down  the  Tokaido  was  to  behold  in 
succession  the  various  industries  of  the  empire.  In  one 
place  only  silk  cords  were  made,  in  another  the  finely- 
woven  straw  coverings  of  sake  cups  and  lacquer  bowls; 
a  third  produced  basket-work  of  wistaria  fibres,  and  a 
fourth  shaped  ink-stones  for  writing-boxes.  Increased 
trade  and  steam  communication  have  interfered  with 
these  local  monopolies,  and  one  town  is  fast  becoming 
like  another  in  its  industrial  displays. 

May  is  one  of  the  best  months  for  such  overland  trips 
in  Japan,  as  the  weather  is  perfect,  pilgrims  and  fleas 
are  not  yet  on  the  road,  and  the  rainy  season  is  distant. 
The  whole  country  is  like  a  garden,  with  its  fresh  spring 
crops,  and  the  long,  shaded  avenue  of  trees  is  everywhere 
touched  with  flaming  azaleas  and  banks  of  snowy  black- 
berry blossoms.  The  tea-house  and  the  tateba  every- 
where invite  one  to  rest  and  watch  the  unique  proces- 
sions of  the  highway,  and  away  from  foreign  settlements 
much  of  the  old  Japan  is  left.  Tea  is  everywhere  in  evi- 
dence in  May.  It  is  being  picked  in  the  fields,  carted 
along  the  roads,  sold,  sorted,  and  packed  in  every  town, 

190 


The   Tokaido 

while  charming  nesans  with  trays  of  tiny  cups  fairly  line 
the  road. 

From  Miyanoshita's  comfortable  hotel  the  two  foreign 
women  and  the  Japanese  guide  started  on  the  first  stage 
of  the  Tokaido  trip  in  pole-chairs,  carried  by  four  coolies 
each.  The  danna  san,  or  master  of  the  party,  scorning 
such  effeminate  devices,  strode  ahead  with  an  alpen- 
stock, a  pith  helmet,  and  russet  shoes,  while  the  provi- 
sion-box and  general  luggage,  filling  a  kago,  followed 
after  us.  We  were  soon  up  the  hill  in  a  bamboo-shaded 
lane,  and  then  out  over  the  grassy  uplands  to  the  lake  of 
Hakone.  The  singing  coolies  strode  along,  keeping  even 
step  on  the  breathless  ascents,  past  the  sulphur  baths  of 
Ashinoyu  and  to  the  Hakone  Buddha — a  giant  bass-relief 
of  Amida  sculptured  on  the  face  of  a  wall  of  rock  niched 
among  the  hills.  The  lonely  Buddha  occupies  a  fit  place 
for  a  contemplative  deity — summer  suns  scorching  and 
winter  snows  drifting  over  the  stony  face  unhindered.  A 
heap  of  pebbles  in  Buddha's  lap  is  the  register  of  pil- 
grims' prayers. 

At  Hakone  village,  a  single  street  of  thatched  houses 
bordering  the  shore  of  Hakone  lake,  the  narrow  foot- 
path over  the  hills  joins  the  true  Tokaido,  a  stone-paved 
highway  shaded  by  double  rows  of  ancient  trees,  a  for- 
est aisle  recalling,  fo*"  a  brief  journey,  the  avenue  to 
Nikko.  The  chrysanthemum-crested  gates  of  the  Em- 
peror's island  palace  were  fast  shut,  and  Fuji's  cone 
peeped  over  the  shoulders  of  encircling  mountains,  and 
reflected  its  image  in  the  almost  bottomless  lake — an  an- 
cient crater,  whose  fires  are  forever  extinguished.  Here 
we  tied  straw  sandals  over  our  shoes  and  tried  to  walk 
along  the  smooth  flat  stones  of  the  Tokaido,  but  soon 
submitted  to  be  carried  again  up  the  ascent  to  Hakone 
pass,  which  looks  southward  over  a  broad  valley  to  the 
ocean.  Pack-horses,  with  their  clumsy  feet  tied  in  straw 
shoes,  were  led  by  bluebloused  peasants,  their  heads 


yinriktsha  Days  in  yafian 

wrapped  in  the  inevitable  blue-and-white  cotton  towel, 
along  the  stony  road,  that  has  been  worn  smooth  and 
slippery  by  the  straw-covered  feet  of  generations  of  men 
and  horses. 

From  the  Fuji  no  taira  (terrace  for  viewing  Fuji),  in 
the  village  of  Yamanaka,  we  looked  sheer  down  to  the 
plain  of  Mishima  and  saw,  almost  beneath  us,  the  town 
that  would  mark  the  end  of  our  day's  journey.  The  vil- 
lages of  Sasabara  and  Mitsuya  have  each  a  single  row 
of  houses  on  either  side  of  the  road  replacing  the  shade- 
trees  of  the  Tokaido,  and,  like  all  Japanese  villages,  they 
overflow  with  children,  to  whom  Ijin  san,  the  foreigner, 
is  still  a  marvel. 

Mishima  is  a  busy,  prosperous  little  town,  with  a  gay 
main  street  and  shops  overflowing  with  straw  hats,  bas- 
kets, matting,  rain-coats,  umbrellas,  tourist  and  pilgrim 
necessities.  Shops  for  the  sale  of  foreign  goods  are  nu- 
merous, and  besides  the  familiar  cases  of  "  Devoe's 
Brilliant  Oil  for  Japan,  150°  test,"  American  trade  is 
advertised  by  pictures  of  the  Waterbury  watch,  and  long 
hanging  signs  declaring  the  merits  of  the  American 
time-keepers  sold  at  three  yen  apiece.  Even  the  chief 
of  the  jinrikisha  men,  who  came  to  make  the  bargain 
for  wheeling  us  down  the  Tokaido,  pulled  out  such  a 
watch  to  tell  us  the  time  of  day. 

Mishima's  best  tea-house,  where  daimios  rested  in  the 
olden  time,  is  a  most  perfect  specimen  of  Japanese 
architecture,  full  of  darkly-shining  woods,  fantastic  win- 
dows, and  tiny  courts.  In  one  of  our  rooms  the  toko- 
noma  held  a  kakemono,  with  a  poem  written  on  it  in 
giant  characters,  and  three  tall  pink  peonies  springing 
from  an  exquisite  bronze  vase.  In  another,  smiled  a 
wooden  image  of  old  Hokorokojin,  one  of  the  household 
gods  of  luck,  and  on  a  low  lacquer  table  rested  a  large 
lacquer  box  containing  a  roll  of  writing-paper,  the  ink- 
box,  and  brushes.     These,  with  the  soft  mats,  a  few  silk 


The  Tokaido 

cushions,  a  tea-tray,  and  tabako  bon,  were  all  that  the 
rooms  contained,  until  our  incongruous  bags  and  bun- 
dles marred  their  exquisite  simplicity.  The  landlord, 
with  many  bows  and  embarrassed  chucklings,  greeted  us 
there,  and  presented  a  most  superb,  long-stemmed  Jacque- 
minot rose,  whose  fragrance  soon  filled  the  whole  place. 

When  we  went  out  for  a  walk  all  Mishima  joined  us; 
and  with  a  following  of  two  hundred  children  and  half 
as  many  elders,  we  turned  into  the  grounds  of  an  old 
temple  shaded  by  immense  trees  and  protected  by  an 
ancient  moat.  The  brigade  clattered  after  us  across  the 
stone  bridge  of  a  great  lotus  pond,  where  the  golden 
carp  are  as  large  and  as  old  as  the  mossy-backed  patri- 
archs at  Fontainebleau  and  Potsdam,  and  snapped  and 
fought  for  the  rice-cakes  we  threw  them  as  if  it  were 
their  first  feast.  Farther  in  the  temple  grounds  gor- 
geously-colored cocks  with  trailing  tails,  and  pretty  pig- 
eons are  kept  as  messengers  of  the  gods,  and  a  toothless 
old  man  makes  a  slender  living  by  selling  popped  beans 
to  feed  them.  Prayers  for  rain  offered  up  at  this  tem- 
ple always  prevail,  and  we  had  barely  returned  to  the 
tea-house  before  a  soaking  storm  set  in  and  restricted 
us  to  our  inn  for  entertainment. 

The  large  matted  room,  or  space  at  the  front  of  the 
tea-house,  was  at  once  ofiice,  hall,  vestibule,  pantry,  and 
store-room.  At  one  side  opened  a  stone-floored  kitchen 
with  rows  of  little  stone  braziers  for  charcoal  fires,  on 
which  something  was  always  steaming  and  sputtering. 
Chief -cook,  under -cooks,  and  gay  little  maids  pattered 
around  on  their  clogs,  their  sleeves  tied  up,  hoisting  wa- 
ter from  the  well,  and  setting  out  trays  with  the  various 
dishes  of  a  Japanese  dinner.  There  is  no  general  dining- 
room,  nor  any  fixed  hour  for  meals  in  a  Japanese  inn.  h\. 
any  moment,  day  or  night,  the  guest  may  clap  his  hands 
and  order  his  food,  which  is  brought  to  his  room  on  a 
tray  and  set  on  the  floor,  or  on  the  ozen,  a  table  about 


Jmrikiska  Days  in  Japan 

four  inches  high.  Rice  is  boiled  in  quantities  large 
enough  to  last  for  one,  or  even  two  days.  It  is  heated 
over  when  wanted,  or  hot  tea  is  poured  over  the  cold 
rice  after  it  is  served.  Our  guide  cooked  all  our  food, 
laid  our  high  table  with  its  proper  furnishings,  and  was 
assisted  by  the  nesans  in  carrying  things  up  and  down 
the  stairs.  In  a  small  room  opening  from  the  office  two 
girls  were  sorting  the  landlord's  new  tea  just  brought  in 
from  the  country.  They  sat  before  a  large  table  raised 
only  a  few  inches  from  the  floor,  and,  from  a  heap  of  the 
fragrant  leaves  at  one  end,  scattered  little  handfuls  thinly 
over  the  lacquer  top.  With  their  deft  fingers  they  slid 
to  one  side  the  smallest  and  finest  leaves  from  the  tips 
of  the  new  shoots  of  the  plant,  and  to  the  other  side  the 
larger  and  coarser  growth,  doing  it  all  so  quickly  and 
surely  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  watch  them.  In  another 
corner  of  the  office  two  other  little  maids  were  putting 
clean  cases  on  all  the  pillows  of  the  house.  The  Japan- 
ese pillow  is  a  wooden  box,  with  a  little  padded  roll  on 
top,  which  is  covered  with  a  fresh  bit  of  soft,  white  mul- 
berry-paper each  day.  The  bath-room  was  as  accessible 
as  the  kitchen,  without  a  door,  but  with  glass  screens, 
and  one  large  tank  in  which  three  or  four  could  sociably 
dip  together.  Here  were  splashing  and  talking  until 
midnight,  and  steam  issued  forth  continually,  as  guests 
and  the  household  staff  took  their  turn.  The  landlord 
requested  the  masculine  head  of  our  party  to  use  a  spe- 
cial tub  that  stood  in  an  alcove  of  the  office,  a  folding- 
screen  about  three  feet  high  being  set  up  to  conceal  him 
from  the  populous  precincts  of  office,  corridor,  garden, 
and  main  street.  A  too  vigorous  sweep  of  his  stalwart 
arm,  however,  knocked  down  his  defence,  and  dropping 
to  his  chin  in  the  water,  he  called  for  help ;  whereupon 
the  two  maids,  who  were  sorting  tea,  ran  over  and  set  the 
barrier  up  again,  as  naturally  as  a  foreign  servant  would 

.  place  the  fire-screen  before  a  grate. 

194 


The  Tokaido 

In  old  Tokaido  days  the  home  bath-tub  was  often  set 
beside  the  door -step,  that  bathers  might  lose  nothing 
that  was  going  on.  Government  regulations  and  stern 
policemen  have  interfered  with  this  primitive  innocency, 
except  in  the  most  remote  districts,  and  these  Oriental 
Arcadians  are  obliged  to  wear  certain  prescribed  fig- 
leaves,  although  they  curtail  them  as  much  as  possible 
in  warm  weather,  and  dispense  with  them  when  beating 
out  wheat  ears  in  their  own  farm-yards,  and  treading  the 
rice -mill  in -doors.  Privacy  is  unknown  to  the  lower 
classes,  and  in  warm  weather  their  whole  life  is  lived  out- 
of-doors.  With  their  open-fronted  houses,  they  are  hard- 
ly in-doors  even  when  under  their  own  roofs.  On  pleas- 
ant mornings  women  wash  and  cook,  mend,  spin,  reel, 
and  set  up  the  threads  for  the  loom  on  the  open  road- 
side, and  often  bring  the  clumsy  wooden  loom  out-of- 
doors,  throwing  the  bobbins  back  and  forth,  while  keep- 
ing an  eye  on  their  neighbors'  doings  and  the  travelling 
public.  One  runs  past  miles  of  such  groups  along  the 
Tokaido,  and  the  human  interest  is  never  wanting  in  any 
landscape  picture. 

From  Mishima  southward  the  country  is  most  beauti- 
ful, Fujiyama  standing  at  the  end  of  the  broad  valley 
with  the  spurs  of  its  foot-hills  running  down  to  the  sea. 
This  Yoshiwara  plain  is  one  wide  wheat-field,  golden  in 
May -time  with  its  first  crop,  and  the  Tokaido's  line 
marked  with  rows  of  picturesque  pine-trees  rising  from 
low  embankments  brilliant  with  blooming  bushes.  In 
the  villages  each  little  thatched  house  is  fenced  with 
braided  reeds,  enclosing  a  few  peonies,  iris -beds,  and 
inevitable  chrysanthemum  plants.  The  children,  with 
smaller  children  on  their  backs,  chase,  tumble,  and  play, 
cage  fire-flies,  and  braid  cylinders  and  hexagonal  puzzles 
of  wheat  straws  ;  and  in  sunshine  or  in  rain,  indifferently 
stroll  along  the  road  in  the  aimless,  uncertain  way  of 
chickens. 


yinriktska  Days  in  Ja/>an 

Beyond  the  poor,  unfragrant  town  of  Yoshiwara,  a 
creaking,  springing  bridge  leaped  the  torrent  of  a  river 
fed  by  Fuji's  snows  and  clouds.  In  the  good  old  days, 
when  the  traveller  sat  on  a  small  square  platform,  car- 
ried high  above  the  shoulders  of  four  men,  to  be  ferried 
over,  these  bearers  often  stopped  in  the  most  dangerous 
place  to  extort  more  pay  —  which  was  never  refused. 
Above  the  river  bank  the  road  climbs  a  ridge,  traverses 
the  tiniest  of  rice  valleys,  and  then  follows  the  ocean 
cliffs  for  hours.  This  Corniche  road,  overhanging  the 
sea,  presents  a  succession  of  pictures  framed  by  the 
arching  branches  of  ancient  pine-trees,  and  the  long  Pa- 
cific rollers,  pounding  on  the  beach  and  rocks,  fill  the 
air  with  their  loud  song.  At  sunset  we  came  to  the  old 
monastery  of  Kiomiidera,  high  on  the  terraced  front  of 
a  bold  cliff.  Climbing  to  a  gate-way  and  bell  tower 
worthy  of  a  fortress,  we  roused  the  priests  from  their 
calm  meditations.  An  active  young  brother  in  a  white 
gown  flew  to  show  us  the  famous  garden  with  its  palm- 
trees  and  azaleas  reflected  in  a  tiny  lake,  a  small  water- 
fall descending  musically  from  the  high  mountain  wall 
of  foliage  behind  it.  Superbly  decorated  rooms,  where 
Shoguns  and  daimios  used  to  rest  from  their  journeys, 
look  out  on  this  green  shade.  The  main  temple  is  a 
lofty  chamber  with  stone  flooring  and  gorgeous  altar, 
shady,  quiet,  and  cool,  and  a  corner  of  the  temple  yard 
has  been  filled  by  pious  givers  with  hundreds  upon  hun- 
dreds of  stone  Buddhas,  encrusted  with  moss  and  lichens, 
and  pasted  bits  of  paper  prayers. 

All  through  those  first  provinces  around  Fuji  the  gar- 
den fences,  made  of  bamboo,  rushes,  twigs,  or  coarse 
straw,  are  braided,  interlaced,  woven  and  tied  in  ingen- 
ious devices,  the  fashion  and  pattern  often  changing 
completely  in  a  few  hours'  ride.  This  region  is  the  hap- 
py hunting-ground  of  the  artist  and  photographer,  where 
everything  is  so  beautiful,  so  picturesque,  and  so  artis- 

196 


The  Tokatdo 

tic  that  even  the  blades  of  grass  and  ears  of  millet 
"compose,"  and  every  pine-tree  is  a  kakemono  study. 
Thatched  roofs,  and  arching,  hump-backed  bridges  made 
of  branches,  twigs,  and  straw  seem  only  to  exist  for  land- 
scape effects ;  but,  unhappily,  the  old  bridges,  like  the 
lumbering  junks  with  their  laced  and  shirred  sails,  are 
disappearing,  and,  in  a  generation  or  two,  will  be  as  un- 
familiar to  the  natives  as  they  now  are  to  foreigners. 


CHAPTER    XX 
THE  TOKAIDO— II 


Great  once  was  Shidzuoka,  which  now  is  only  a  busy 
commercial  town  of  an  agricultural  province.  The  old 
castle  has  been  razed,  its  martial  quadrangle  is  a  wheat 
field ;  and  the  massive  walls,  the  creeping  and  overhang- 
ing pine-trees  and  deep  moats  are  the  only  feudal  relics. 
Keiki,  the  last  of  the  Tokugawa  Shoguns,  lived  in  a 
black  walled  enclosure  beyond  the  outer  moat,  but  the 
modern  spirit  paid  no  heed  to  his  existence,  and  his 
death,  in  1883,  was  hardly  an  incident  in  the  routine  of 
its  commercial  progress. 

The  great  Shinto  temple  at  the  edge  of  the  town  is 
famous  for  the  dragons  in  its  ceiling.  The  old  priest 
welcomed  us  with  smiles,  led  us  in,  shoeless,  over  the 
mats,  and  bade  us  look  up,  first  at  the  Dragon  of  the 
Four  Quarters,  and  then  at  the  Dragon  of  the  Eight 
Quarters,  the  eyes  of  the  monster  strangely  meeting 
ours,  as  we  changed  our  various  points  of  view. 

At  the  archery  range  behind  the  temple  our  danna  san 
proved  himself  a  new  William  Tell  with  the  bow  and 
arrows.  The  attendant  idlers  cheered  his  shots,  and  a 
wrinkled  old  woman  brought  us  dragon  candies  on  a 


'Jinrikisha  Days  in  "Japan 

dark-red  lacquer  tray,  under  whose  transparent  surface 
lay  darker  shadows  of  cherry  blossoms.  The  eye  of  the 
connoisseur  was  quick  to  descry  the  tray,  and  when  the 
woman  said  it  had  been  bought  in  the  town,  we  took 
jinrikishas  and  hurried  to  the  address  she  gave.  The 
guide  explained  minutely,  the  shopkeeper  brought  out 
a  hundred  other  kinds  and  colors  of  lacquer,  and  chil- 
dren ran  in  from  home  workshops  with  hardly  dried 
specimens  to  show  us.  All  the  afternoon  we  searched 
through  lacquer  and  curio  shops,  and  finally  despatched 
a  coolie  to  the  temple  to  buy  the  old  woman's  property. 
Hours  afterwards  he  returned  with  a  brand-new,  bright 
red  horror,  and  the  message  that "  the  mistress  could  not 
send  the  honorable  foreigner  such  a  poor  old  tray  as  that." 
The  fine  Shidzuoka  baskets,  which  are  so  famed  else- 
where, were  not  to  be  found  in  Shidzuoka ;  our  tea-house 
was  uninteresting,  and  so  we  set  forth  in  the  rain,  unfurl- 
ing big  flat  umbrellas  of  oil-paper,  and  whirling  away 
through  a  dripping  landscape.  Rice  and  wheat  alter- 
nated with  dark -green  tea-bushes,  and  cart-loads  of  tea- 
chests  were  bearing  the  first  season's  crop  to  market. 
The  rain  did  not  obscure  the  lovely  landscape,  as  the 
plain  we  followed  turned  to  a  valley,  the  valley  narrowed 
to  a  ravine,  and  we  began  climbing  upward,  while  a 
mountain  -  torrent  raced  down  beside  us.  One  pictu- 
resque little  village  in  a  shady  hollow  gave  us  glimpses 
of  silk-worm  trays  in  the  houses  as  we  went  whirling 
through  it.  The  road,  winding  by  zigzags  up  Utsono- 
miya  pass,  suddenly  entered  a  tunnel  six  hundred  feet 
in  length,  where  the  jinrikisha  wheels  rumbled  noisily. 
On  cloudy  days  the  place  is  lighted  by  lamps,  but  on 
sunny  days  by  the  sun's  reflection  from  two  black  lacq- 
uer boards  at  the  entrances.  The  device  is  an  old  one 
in  Japan,  but  an  American  patent  has  recently  been  is- 
sued for  the  same  thing,  as  a  cheap  means  of  lighting 
ships'  holds  while  handling  cargo. 

198 


The  Tokaido 

On  the  other  side  of  Utsonomiya  pass  the  road  winds 
down  by  steep  zigzags  to  the  village  of  Okabe,  noted 
for  its  trays  and  boxes  made  of  the  polished  brown  stem 
of  a  coarse  fern.  We  bought  our  specimens  from  an 
oracular  woman,  who  delivered  her  remarks  like  the 
lines  of  a  part,  her  husband  meekly  echoing  what  she  said 
in  the  same  dramatic  tones,  and  the  whole  scene  being 
as  stagey  as  if  it  had  been  well  rehearsed  beforehand. 

From  the  mountains  the  road  drops  to  a  rich  tea 
country,  where  every  hill-side  is  green  with  the  thick-set 
little  bushes.  At  harvest-time  cart-loads  of  basket-fired, 
or  country -dried,  tea  fill  the  road  to  the  ports,  to  be 
toasted  finally  in  iron  pans,  and  coated  with  indigo  and 
gypsum  to  satisfy  the  taste  of  American  tea- drinkers. 
In  every  town  farmers  may  be  seen  dickering  with  the 
merchants  over  the  tough  paper  sacks  of  tea  that  they 
bring  in,  and  within  the  houses  groups  sitting  at  low 
tables  sort  the  leaves  into  grades  with  swift  fingers. 

At  Fujiyeda,  where  we  took  refuge  from  the  increas- 
ing rain,  the  splashing  in  the  large  bath-room  of  the  tea- 
house was  kept  up  from  afternoon  to  midnight  by  the 
guests,  and  continued  by  the  family  and  tea-house  maids 
until  four  o'clock,  when  the  early  risers  began  their  ab- 
lutions. A  consumptive  priest  on  the  other  side  of  our 
thin  paper  walls  had  a  garrulous  shampooer  about  mid- 
night and  a  refection  later,  and  we  were  glad  to  resume 
the  ride  between 'tea  fields  at  the  earliest  possible  hour. 

At  Kanaya,  at  the  foot  of  Kanaya  mountain,  the  tea- 
house adjoined  a  school-house.  The  school-room  had 
desks  and  benches  but  no  walls,  the  screens  being  all 
removed.  The  teacher  called  the  pupils  in  by  clapping 
two  sticks  together,  as  in  a  French  theatre.  Spying  the 
foreigners,  the  children  stared,  oblivious  of  teacher  and 
blackboard,  and  the  teacher,  after  one  good  look  at  the 
itinerants,  bowed  a  courteous  good-morning,  and  let  the 
offenders  go  unpunished. 

«99 


yinriktsha  Days  in  yapan 

Up  over  Kanaya  pass  we  toiled  slowl)^,  reaching  at  last 
a  little  eyrie  of  a  tea-house,  where  the  landlord  pointed 
with  equal  pride  to  the  view  and  to  several  pairs  of  muddy 
shoes  belonging,  he  said,  to  the  honorable  gentlemen 
who  were  about  piercing  the  mountain  under  us  with  a 
railway  tunnel.  Under  a  shady  arbor  is  a  huge,  round 
bowlder,  fenced  in  carefully  and  regarded  reverently  by 
humble  travellers.  According  to  the  legend  it  used  to 
cry  at  night  like  a  child  until  Kobo  Daishi,  the  inventor 
of  the  Japanese  syllabary,  wrote  an  inscription  on  it  and 
quieted  it  forever.  No  less  famous  than  Kobo  Daishi's 
rock  is  the  midzu  ame  of  this  Kanaya  tea-house,  and  the 
dark  brown  sweet  is  put  in  dainty  little  boxes  that  are 
the  souvenirs  each  pilgrim  carries  away  with  him. 

Farther  along  the  main  road,  with  its  arching  shade- 
trees,  the  glossy  dark  tea-bushes  gave  way  to  square  miles 
of  rice  and  wheat  fields.  Here  and  there  a  patch  of  in- 
tense green  verdure  showed  the  young  blades  of  rice  al- 
most ready  to  be  transplanted  to  the  fields,  whence  the 
wheat  had  just  been  garnered,  the  rice  giving  way  in  turn 
to  some  other  cereal,  all  farming  land  in  this  fertile  re- 
gion bearing  three  annual  crops. 

A  few  villages  showed  the  projecting  roofs  peculiar  to 
the  province  of  Totomi,  and  then  the  pretty  tea-house  at 
Hamamatsu  quite  enchanted  us  after  our  experiences 
with  the  poor  accommodations  of  some  of  the  provincial 
towns.  A  rough  curbed  well  in  the  court-yard,  with  a 
queer  parasol  of  a  roof  high  over  the  sweep,  a  pretty 
garden  all  cool,  green  shade,  a  stair-way,  steep  and  high, 
and  at  the  top  a  long,  dim  corridor,  with  a  floor  of  shin- 
ing, dark  keyaki  wood.  This  was  the  place  that  made 
us  welcome ;  even  stocking-footed  we  half  feared  to  tread 
on  those  brilliantly-polished  boards.  Our  balcony  over- 
looked a  third  charming  garden,  and  each  little  room  had 
a  distinctive  beauty  of  wooden  ceilings,  recesses,  screens, 
and  fanciful  windows. 


The  Tokaido 

The  most  enviable  possession  of  Hamamatsu,  however, 
was  O' Tatsu,  and  on  our  arrival  O'Tatsu  helped  to  carry 
our  traps  up-stairs,  falling  into  raptures  over  our  rings, 
pins,  hair-pins,  watches,  and  beaded  trimmings.  She 
clapped  her  hands  in  ecstasy,  her  bright  eyes  sparkled, 
and  her  smile  displayed  the  most  dazzling  teeth.  When 
we  ate  supper,  sitting  on  the  floor  around  an  eight-inch 
high  table,  with  little  O'Tatsu  presiding  and  waiting  on 
us,  not  only  her  beauty  but  her  charming  frankness, 
simplicity,  quickness,  and  grace  made  further  conquest  of 
us  all.  The  maiden  enjoyed  our  admiration  immensely, 
arrayed  herself  in  her  freshest  blue-and-white  cotton  ki- 
mono, and  submitted  her  head  to  the  best  hair-dresser  in 
town,  returning  with  gorgeous  bits  of  crape  and  gold  cord 
tied  in  with  the  butterfly  loops  of  her  blue-black  tresses. 
At  her  suggestion  we  sent  for  a  small  dancing-girl  to  enter- 
tain us,  who,  with  a  wand  and  masks,  represented  Suzume 
and  other  famous  characters  in  legend  and  melodramas. 
When  we  left  Hamamatsu,  aff^ectionate  little  O'Tatsu 
begged  me  to  send  her  my  photograph,  and  lest  I  should 
not  have  understood  her  excited  flow  of  Japanese  sen- 
tences, illuminated,  however,  by  her  great  pleading  eyes, 
she  ran  off,  and,  coming  back,  slipped  up  to  me  and 
held  out  a  cheap,  colored  picture  of  some  foreign  beauty 
in  the  costume  of  1865.  When  at  last  we  rode  away 
from  the  tea-house,  O'Tatsu  followed  my  jinrikisha  for  a 
long  way,  holding  my  hand,  with  tears  in  her  lovely  eyes, 
and  her  last  sayonara  broke  in  a  sob. 

A  hard  shell-road  winds  down  to  the  shores  of  Hama- 
na  Lake  and  across  its  long  viaduct.  The  jinrikishas 
run,  as  if  on  rubber  tires,  for  nearly  three  miles  over  an 
embankment  crossing  the  middle  of  the  great  lake,  which 
at  one  side  admits  the  curling  breakers  of  the  great  Pa- 
cific. Until  a  few  years  ago  this  mountain-walled  pool 
was  protected  from  the  ocean  by  a  broad  sand  ridge, 
which  an  earthquake  shook  down,  letting  in  the  salt- 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

waters.  The  Tokaido  railroad  crosses  the  lake  on  a  high 
embankment,  which  was  sodded  and  covered  with  a  lat- 
tice-work of  straw  bundles,  while  seed  was  sown  in  the 
crevices  more  than  a  year  before  the  road  could  be  used. 
The  whole  railroad,  as  we  saw  in  passing  its  completed 
sections,  is  solidly  built  with  stone  foundations  and  stone 
ballast,  and  intended  to  last  for  centuries.  The  Japan- 
ese seldom  hurry  the  making  of  public  works,  and  even 
a  railroad  does  not  inspire  them  with  any  feverish  activ- 
ity. Not  until  the  last  detail  and  station-house  was  fin- 
ished was  the  line  opened  for  travel,  and  following  so 
nearly  the  route  of  the  old  Tokaido,  through  the  most 
fertile  and  picturesque  part  of  Central  Japan,  it  keeps 
always  in  sight  Fujiyama  or  the  ocean. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  plantations  of  mulber- 
ry-trees came  in  sight.  Loads  of  mulberry  branches  and 
twigs  were  being  hauled  into  the  villages  and  sold  by 
weight,  the  rearers  of  silk-worms  buying  the  leaves  and 
paper-makers  the  stems  for  the  sake  of  the  inside  bark. 
Climbing  to  one  high  plateau,  we  rested  at  a  little  rustic 
shed  of  a  tea-house,  commanding  a  superb  view  down  a 
great  ragged  ravine  to  the  line  of  foam  breaking  at  its 
bowlder  strewn  entrance,  and  so  on  to  the  limitless 
ocean.  One  of  the  jinrikisha  coolies  preceded  us  to  the 
benches  on  the  overhanging  balcony,  and,  kindly  point- 
ing out  the  special  beauties  of  the  scene,  took  off  his 
garments  and  spread  them  out  on  the  rail  in  the  matter- 
of-fact,  unconscious  way  of  true  Japanese  innocence  and 
simplicity  of  mind. 

The  guide-book  calls  the  stretch  of  country  beyond 
that  high-perched  tea-house  "  a  waste  region,"  but  noth- 
ing could  be  more  beautiful  than  the  long  ride  through 
pine  forest  and  belts  of  scrub-pine  on  that  uncultivated 
plateau,  always  overlooking  the  ocean.  At  one  point 
a  temple  to  the  goddess  Kwannon  is  niched  among  tow- 
ering rocks  at  the  base  of  a  narrow  cliff,  on  whose  sum- 

309 


The  Tokaido 

mit  a  colossal  statue  of  the  deity  stands  high  against  the 
sky.  For  more  than  a  century  this  bronze  goddess  of 
Mercy  has  been  the  object  of  pious  pilgrimages,  the  pil- 
grims clapping  their  hands  and  bowing  in  prayer  to  all 
the  thirty-three  Kwannons  cut  in  the  face  of  the  solid 
rock-base  on  which  our  lady  of  pity  stands. 

We  reached  the  long,  dull  town  of  Toyohashi  at  dusk, 
to  find  the  large  tea-house  crowded  with  travellers.  Two 
rooms  looking  out  upon  a  sultry  high-walled  garden  were 
given  us,  and  for  dining-room  a  tiny  alcove  of  a  place  on 
one  of  the  middle  courts.  This  room  was  so  small  and 
close  that  we  had  to  leave  the  screens  open,  though  the 
corridor  led  to  the  large  bath-room,  where  half  a  dozen 
people  splashed  and  chattered  noisily  and  gentlemen 
with  their  clothes  on  their  arms  went  back  and  forth  be- 
fore our  door  as  if  before  the  life  class  of  an  art  school. 
The  noise  of  the  bathers  was  kept  up  gayly,  until  long 
after  midnight,  and  no  one  in  the  tea-house  seemed  to 
be  sleeping.  By  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  such  a 
coughing,  blowing,  and  sputtering  began  in  the  court 
beside  my  room  that  I  finally  slid  the  screens  and  looked 
out.  At  least  a  dozen  lodgers  were  brushing  their  teeth 
in  the  picturesque  little  quadrangle  of  rocks,  bamboos, 
and  palms,  and  bathing  face  and  hands  in  the  large 
stone  and  bronze  urns  that  we  had  supposed  to  be  orna- 
mental only.  Later,  the  gravel  was  covered  with  scores 
of  the  wooden  sticks  of  tooth-brushes,  beaten  out  into  a 
tassel  of  fibres  at  one  end,  and  with  many  boxes  emptied 
of  the  coarse,  gritty  tooth-powder  which  the  Japanese 
use  so  freely. 

The  last  day  of  our  long  jinrikisha  ride  was  warm,  the 
sun  glared  on  a  white,  dusty  road,  and  the  country  was 
flat  and  uninteresting.  Each  little  town  and  village 
seemed  duller  than  the  other.  Wheat  and  rape  were 
being  harvested  and  spread  to  dry,  and  in  the  farm  yards 
men  and  women  were  hatchelling,  beating  out  the  grain 

203 


yinrtktsha  Days  in  yapan 

with  flails,  and  winnowing  it  in  the  primitive  way  by 
pouring  it  down  from  a  flat  scoop-basket  held  high  over- 
head. Nobody  wore  any  clothes  to  speak  of,  and  the 
whole  population  turned  out  to  watch  the  amazing  spec- 
tacle of  foreigners  standing  spell-bound  until  our  jinrik- 
ishas  had  gone  by. 

At  Arimatsu  village  we  passed  through  a  street  of 
shops  where  the  curiously  dyed  cotton  goods  peculiar  to 
the  place  are  sold.  For  several  hundred  years  all  Ari- 
matsu has  been  tying  knots  down  the  lengths  of  cotton, 
twisting  it  in  skeins,  and  wrapping  it  regularly  with  a 
double-dyed  indigo  thread,  and  then,  by  immersion  in 
boiling  water,  dyeing  the  fabric  in  curious  lines  and  star- 
spotted  patterns.  A  more  clumsy  and  primitive  way  of 
dyeing  could  not  be  imagined  in  this  day  of  steam-looms 
and  roller -printing,  but  Arimatsu  keeps  it  up  and  pros- 
pers. 

At  sunset  we  saw  the  towers  of  Nagoya  castle  in  the 
distance,  and  after  crossing  the  broad  plain  of  ripening 
rape  and  wheat,  the  coolies  sped  through  the  town  at  a 
fearful  pace  and  deposited  us,  dazed,  dusted,  and  weary, 
at  the  door  of  the  Shiurokindo,  to  enjoy  the  beautiful 
rooms  just  kindly  vacated  by  Prince  Bernard,  of  Saxe- 
Weimar. 

The  Shiurokindo  is  one  of  the  handsomest  and  largest 
of  the  tea-houses  a  foreigner  finds,  its  interior  a  labyrinth 
of  rooms  and  suites  of  rooms,  each  with  a  balcony  and 
private  outlook  on  some  pretty  court.  The  walls,  the 
screens,  recesses,  ceilings,  and  balcony  rails  afford  stud- 
ies and  models  of  the  best  Japanese  interior  decorations. 
The  samisen's  wail  and  a  clapping  chorus  announced  that 
a  great  dinner  was  going  on,  and  in  the  broader  corridors 
there  was  a  passing  and  repassing  of  people  arrayed  in 
hotel  kimonos. 

As  the  wise  traveller  carries  little  baggage,  the  tea- 
houses furnish  their  customers  with  ukatas,  or  plain  cot- 

304 


The   Tokatdo 

ton  kimonos,  to  put  on  after  the  bath  and  wear  at  night. 
These  gowns  are  marked  with  the  crest  or  name  of  the 
house,  painted  in  some  ingenious  or  artistic  design ;  and 
guests  may  wander  round  the  town,  even,  clad  in  these 
garments,  that  so  ingeniously  advertise  the  Maple-leaf, 
the  Chrysanthemum,  or  Dragon  tea-house.  All  guides, 
and  servants  particularly,  enjoy  wearing  these  hotel  robes, 
and  travellers  who  dislike  to  splash  their  own  clothing 
march  to  the  bath  ungarmented,  assuming  the  house 
gowns  in  the  corridor  after  their  dip.  These  ukatas  at 
the  Shiurokindo  were  the  most  startling  fabrics  of  Ari- 
matsu,  and  we  looked  in  them  as  if  we  had  been  throw- 
ing ink-bottles  at  each  other.  ^     ■ 

Until  the  long  jinrikisha  ride  was  over  we  had  not  felt 
weary,  as  each  day  beguiled  us  with  some  new  interest 
and  excitement;  but  when  we  stepped  from  those  baby- 
carriages  at  the  door  of  the  Shiurokindo  we  were  dazed 
with  fatigue,  although  the  coolies  who  ran  all  the  way 
did  not  appear  to  be  tired  in  the  least.  Their  headman, 
who  marshalled  the  team  of  ten,  was  a  powerful  young 
fellow,  a  very  Hercules  for  muscle,  and  for  speed  and 
endurance  hardly  to  be  matched  by  that  ancient  deity. 
At  the  end  of  each  day  he  seemed  fresher  and  stronger 
than  at  the  start,  and  he  has  often  run  sixty  and  sixty- 
five  miles  a  day,  for  three  and  four  days  together.  He 
led  the  procession  and  set  the  pace,  shouting  back  warn- 
ing of  ruts,  stones,  or  bad  places  in  the  road,  and  giving 
the  signals  for  slowing,  stopping,  and  changing  the  order 
of  the  teams.  On  level  ground  the  coolies  trotted  tan- 
dem— one  in  the  shafts,  and  one  running  ahead  with  a 
line  from  the  shafts  held  over  his  shoulder.  Going  down- 
hill, the  leader  fell  back  and  helped  to  hold  the  shafts ; 
going  uphill,  he  pushed  the  jinrikisha  from  the  back. 

'Ihe  jinrikisha  coolies  make  better  wages  than  farm 
laborers  or  most  mechanics.  Our  men  were  paid  by  the 
distance,  and  for  days  of  detention  each  man  received 


yinrikisha  Days  in   Japan 

twenty-five  cents  to  cover  the  expense  of  his  board  and 
lodging.  They  earned  at  an  average  one  dollar  and  ten 
cents  for  each  day,  but  out  of  this  paid  the  rent  of  the 
jinrikisha  and  the  Government  tax.  Where  two  men  and 
a  jinrikisha  cover  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles  in  four' 
days  they  receive  thirteen  dollars  in  all,  which  is  more 
than  a  farm  laborer  receives  in  a  year.  As  a  rule,  these 
coolies  are  great  gamblers  and  spendthrifts,  with  a  fond- 
ness for  sake.  Our  headman  was  a  model  coolie,  sav- 
ing his  money,  avoiding  the  sake-bottle,  and  regarding 
his  splendid  muscle  as  invested  capital.  When  he  walked 
in  to  collect  his  bill,  he  was  clean  and  shining  in  a  rus- 
tling silk  kimono,  such-as  a  well-to-do  merchant  might 
wear.  In  this  well-dressed,  distinguished-looking  person, 
who  slid  the  screens  of  our  sitting-room  and  bowed  to  us 
so  gracefully,  we  hardly  recognized  our  trotter  of  the 
blue -cotton  coat,  bare  knees,  and  mushroom  hat.  He 
explained  that  the  other  men  could  not  come  to  thank 
us  for  our  gratuities  because  they  had  not  proper 
clothes.  In  making  his  final  and  lowest  bows  his  sub- 
stantial American  watch  fell  out  of  his  silk  belt  with  a 
thump ;  but  he  replaced  it  in  its  chamois  case  with  the 
assurance  that  nothing  hurt  it,  and  that  it  was  with  the 
noon  gun  of  Nagoya  castle  whenever  he  came  to  town. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

NAGOVA 


In  this  day  of  French  uniforms.  Catling- guns,  and 
foreign  tactics,  it  is  only  in  Nagoya  that  the  garrison 
occupies  the  old  castle ;  the  fortress,  with  its  gates  and 
moats,  remains  unchanged,  and  the  bugle -calls  echo 
daily  around  the  quaintly -gabled  citadel.     In  the  great 

206 


Nagoya 

parade-grounds  outside  the  deep  inner  moat  rise  foreign- 
looking  barracks  and  offices,  and  dumpy  little  soldiers 
in  white-duck  coats  and  trousers  and  visored  caps  stand 
as  sentries  on  the  fixed  bridges,  and  in  the  portals  of  the 
huge,  heavy-roofed,  iron-clamped  gate-ways.  Of  course 
these  guards  should  be  men  in  old  armor,  with  spears 
and  bows,  and  the  alarms  should  be  given  on  hoarse- 
toned  gongs  or  conch -shell  bugles,  as  in  feudal  days. 
Instead,  the  commandant  of  Nagoya  has  on  his  staff 
young  nobles  of  old  feudal  families,  who  speak  French, 
German,  or  English,  as  they  have  been  taught  in  foreign 
military  schools.  A  dapper  little  lieutenant,  in  spotless 
gloves  and  an  elaborately  -  frogged  white  uniform,  con- 
ducted us  along  the  deep  moat,  over  the  bridge,  and  un- 
der the  great  gate  of  the  citadel,  whose  stones,  timbers, 
and  iron  clampings  would  defy  a  dozen  mediaeval  armies. 
Gay  chatter  about  la  belle  Paris,  which  the  little  lieuten- 
ant had  learned  to  adore  in  his  student-days,  echoed  un- 
der the  yet  more  ponderous  inner  gate,  and  the  ghosts 
of  the  old  warriors  must  have  groaned  at  the  degeneracy 
of  their  sons. 

Below  the  frowning  citadel  is  an  old  palace,  wherein 
the  son  of  lyeyasu,  the  first  Prince  of  Owari,  lived  in  state 
and  entertained  the  Shogun's  messengers.  The  empty 
rooms  are  musty  and  gloomy  from  long  neglect,  but  the 
beautifully-carved  and  colored  ceilings,  and  the  screens 
and  recess  walls,  decorated  by  famous  artists  with  paint- 
ings on  a  ground  of  thinnest  gold-leaf,  remain  the  sole 
relics  of  his  splendor. 

The  great  donjon  tower  of  the  citadel,  rising  in  five 
gabled  stories,  is  surmounted  by  two  golden  dolphins, 
the  pride  of  Nagoya.  Made  over  two  hundred  years 
ago,  each  solid  goldfish  is  valued  at  eighty  thousand  dol- 
lars, and  many  legends  are  attached  to  them.  A  covet- 
ous citizen  once  made  an  enormous  kite  wherewith  to  fly 
up  and  steal  the  city's  treasures,  but  he  was  caught  and 

ao7 


Jtnrtkzsha  Days  in  Japan 

put  to  death  in  boiling  oil.  The  golden  pets  were  never 
disturbed  until  one  of  them  was  taken  down  and  sent 
with  the  Government  exhibits  to  the  Vienna  Exposition 
in  1873.  On  the  return  voyage  it  sank  to  the  bottom 
of  the  sea  with  the  wrecked  steamer  Nil.  Like  the  old 
lacquers  and  porcelain,  the  golden  dolphin  suffered  no 
sea  change,  and,  after  a  few  months'  immersion,  was 
brought  up  and  returned  to  its  high  perch  on  the  tower, 
while  all  Nagoya  rejoiced  to  see  it  flashing  in  the  sun 
once  more. 

The  donjon  tower  is  a  fine  example  of  the  old  archi- 
tecture, and  the  massive  joists  of  keyaki  would  build 
barracks  for  twenty  regiments.  Inside  the  tower  is  an 
inexhaustible  well,  called  the  "  Golden  Water,"  which, 
in  time  of  siege,  would  enable  a  rice-provisioned  garri- 
son to  hold  out  for  years.  Up  a  stair-way  of  massive 
timbers  one  climb.s,  half  in  darkness  to  the  top,  to  look 
down  upon  the  broad  Nagoya  plain,  the  blue  bay,  and 
the  busy  port  of  Yokkaichi  opposite,  in  the  sacred  prov- 
ince of  Ise. 

Commercially,  Nagoya  is  best  known  as  the  centre  of 
a  great  pottery  and  porcelain  district,  Seto  in  Owari  be- 
ing as  famous  as  Staffordshire  in  England.  In  the  Seto 
suburb  porcelain  clay  is  found,  and  silica  exists  in  large 
quantities  a  few  miles  away.  From  the  castle  tower  one 
sees  the  smoke  of  continuous  lines  of  kilns  surrounding 
the  valley,  and  all  the  ware  is  sent  in  from  these  vil- 
lages to  Nagoya  for  distribution.  Here  the  finest  egg- 
shell porcelain,  rivalling  the  French  ware,  is  made,  much 
of  it  going  to  Yokohama  to  be  decorated  for  the  foreign 
market.  Seto  itself  has  given  its  name  to  all  porcelain, 
and  especially  to  the  pale,  gray-green  ware  so  commonly 
used  in  Japanese  households.  Old  green  Seto  ware  is 
highly  esteemed,  both  for  its  soft  tinting  and  its  peculiar 
glaze,  suggesting  jade  or  lacquer  to  the  touch  more  than 
hard,  kiln-burnt  porcelain.     The  bulk  of  the  commoner 


Nagoya 

heavy  porcelain  is  decorated  here  for  the  foreign  mar- 
ket— men,  women,  and  small  boys  mechanically  repeating 
the  monstrous  designs  in  hideous  colors,  which  they  ig- 
norantly  suppose  to  represent  western  taste,  and  which 
the  western  world  accepts  as  "so  Japanese."  Modern 
Owari  is  least  desirable  and  least  Japanese  of  all  the 
wares  of  Japan,  but  as  thousands  of  dollars  pour  annu- 
ally into  Nagoya  for  these  travesties  of  national  art, 
their  manufacture  and  export  will  still  go  on.  Recently 
the  Seto  potteries  have  been  turning  out  large  tea-cad- 
dies, with  double  or  pierced  covers,  by  tens  of  thousands, 
daubing  them  with  the  discordant  colors  of  cheap  for- 
eign mineral  paints.  Across  the  ocean  they  are  called 
Japanese  rose-jars,  although  the  rose  was  unknown  in 
Japan  until  the  entrance  of  foreigners,  and  the  rose-jar 
and  the  pot-pourri  it  contains  would  greatly  astonish  a 
Japanese.  But  as  Nagoya  and  Seto  are  made  rich  and 
happy  by  badly  decorated  porcelain  tea-caddies,  indus- 
try gains  if  art  loses. 

Thirty  thousand  Nagoyans  are  engaged  in  the  manu- 
facture of  a  cheap  cloisonne  enamel,  ship-loads  of  plaques 
and  vases  with  one  unvarying  hard,  pale-blue  ground  be- 
ing exported  annually.  The  powdered  porcelain  from 
Seto's  imperfect  pieces  forms  the  base  of  the  enamel 
used,  and  the  two  industries  work  together  economically. 

In  Nagoya  town  are  shops  filled  with  the  charming 
Banko  ware,  made  across  the  bay  at  Yokkaichi,  which 
still  retains  all  its  old  merits,  unaltered  by  the  demands 
of  foreign  markets.  Banko  teapots  worked  out  of  sheets 
of  thin  clay,  pressed,  folded,  cut,  and  patterned  in  white 
mosaic  or  glazed  designs  in  low  relief,  resemble  nothing 
so  much  as  bits  of  soft  painted  crapes  stretched  over 
hidden  frames,  and  these  fragile,  unglazed  pieces  are  ail 
the  more  pleasing  in  the  midst  of  Nagoya's  keramic 
nightmares. 

Nagoya  being  a  little  off  the  line  of  tourist  travel,  its 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

curio  shops  are  not  entirely  stripped  of  their  best  things, 
As  Owari's  princes  exchanged  porcelains  liberally  with 
the  daimios  of  Hizen  and  Kaga,  some  rare  pieces  of  old 
Imari  and  Kutani  are  often  chanced  upon,  as  the  impov- 
erishment of  great  families,  and  the  rage  for  foreign 
dress  and  fashions,  tempts  the  better  class  to  part  with 
heirlooms.  Whole  afternoons  wore  on  as  we  made  our 
way  into  the  graces  of  certain  curio  dealers,  that  they 
might  disclose  their  jealously-guarded  treasures.  These 
old  men  of  Nagoya  have  a  real  affection  for  the  beauti- 
ful things  of  the  past,  made  before  any  foreign  demands 
had  corrupted  and  debased  the  native  art.  Once  con- 
vinced of  the  intelligent  interest  of  their  customer,  the 
owners  proudly  open  the  go-down,  and  the  swords,  the 
lacquer,  and  the  porcelains  appear,  and,  lifted  from  their 
boxes,  stripped  of  cotton  and  silk  wrappings,  are  set  forth. 
These  old  dealers  are  men  wholly  of  the  past,  who  medi- 
tate and  smoke  long  over  an  offer,  and  if  they  agree  to 
the  price  solemnly  and  slowly  clap  their  hands  as  a  rati- 
fication of  the  terms.  Four  times  we  passed  by  the  largest 
curio  shop  in  Nagoya,  led  by  the  tea-jars  and  boxes  in 
the  front  to  suppose  that  it  was  only  the  abode  of  a  tea- 
merchant.  When  we  had  accidentally  bought  some  choice 
tea  there,  we  were  invited  back  to  a  court,  where  two  go- 
downs  were  crowded  with  old  porcelains  and  lacquer. 
Near  by  was  another  shop  where  arms,  armor,  Buddhas, 
altar-pieces,  saints,  images,  carvings,  candlesticks,  koros, 
robes,  trappings,  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  priests,  tem- 
ples, warriors,  and  yashikis  were  heaped  up  on  the  floor 
and  hung  overhead. 

The  coolies  had  been  anxious  about  our  rate  of  prog- 
ress on  the  last  Tokaido  days,  fearing  to  miss  the  great 
matsuri  of  the  Nagoya  year,  which,  celebrating  the  deeds 
of  the  founder  and  patron  saints  of  the  city,  has  been 
maintained  with  great  pomp  and  splendor  for  centuries. 
The  procession  was  to  take  four  hours  in  passing,  and 


Nagoya 

our  landlord  engaged  places  for  us  in  the  house  of  a  shoe- 
dealer  in  the  main  street.  The  dealer  in  geta  and  dzori 
dealt  only  in  those  national  foot  coverings,  but,  yielding 
to  foreign  fashions,  had  set  up  a  sign  of 

**  Shoes  the  Shop." 

The  sliding  screens  of  the  front  wall  of  the  room  over 
the  shop  were  removed,  and  bright-red  blankets  thrown 
over  the  ledge  and  spread  out  on  the  eaves  of  the  lower 
story.  All  the  houses  were  open  and  decorated  in  this 
same  way,  and  lanterns  hung  in  rows  from  the  eaves  and 
from  upright  posts  at  the  door-way. 

The  worthy  shoe-dealer's  blankets  and  lanterns  were 
just  like  his  neighbors',  but  when  three  foreigners  ap- 
peared at  the  low  balcony,  then  the  multitude  stopped 
and  stared  open-mouthed  at  that  unusual  spectacle,  and 
we  divided  popular  interest  with  the  procession  as  long 
as  we  remained  there.  Policemen  were  perplexed  be- 
tween their  duty  of  making  the  crowds  move  on  and  their 
own  pleasure  of  having  a  look  at  the  strangers.  Soldiers 
from  the  garrison  stared  by  hundreds,  and  the  police- 
men requested  them  to  depart,  as  well  as  the  rustics  and 
townspeople.  Policemen  rank  much  higher,  in  a  way, 
than  the  soldiers,  the  guardians  of  the  peace  being  near- 
ly all  descendants  of  the  old  samurai,  the  two-sworded, 
privileged  retainers  of  feudal  days,  while  the  common 
soldier  is  enlisted  from  the  farm  laborers  ;  and  one  quick- 
ly sees  how  much  more  regard  the  lower  classes  have  for 
the  gunsa  than  for  the  soldier. 

The  procession  began  with  high  ornamental  wooden 
cars,  or  dasha,  set  on  wheels  hewn  from  single  blocks 
of  wood,  and  drawn  by  ropes,  to  which  every  pious  per- 
son was  supposed  to  lend  a  hand.  Regular  coolies  were 
engaged  for  the  steady  wheel-horse  work,  and  sang  a 
wild  chorus  as  men  with  stout  sticks  pried  the  clumsy 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

wheels  up  for  the  first  turn.  The  corner  posts  and  up- 
per railings  of  the  dasha  are  lacquered  in  black  or  red, 
and  finished  with  plates  of  open-work  brass,  or  elabo- 
rately-gilded carvings.  The  sides  are  hung  with  cur- 
tains of  rich  old  brocade  or  painted  cloth,  and  the  railed 
top  is  a  stage,  on  which  puppet-shows  and  tableaux  repre- 
sent scenes  from  mythology  and  legend.  On  one  car 
Raiden,  the  red  Thunder  God,  mounted  on  a  rearing 
charger,  shook  his  circle  of  drums,  and  Suzume,  the 
priestess,  repeated  her  sacred  dance  before  the  cave. 
Comic  scenes  took  best  with  the  audience,  however,  and 
the  jolly  old  shojo,  men  who  come  up  from  the  bottom 
of  the  sea  for  a  revel  on  shore,  wearing  mats  of  bright' 
red  hair  and  gowns  of  gorgeous  brocade,  were  received 
with  greatest  favor.  They  ladled  out  sake  from  a  deep 
jar,  and  finally  stood  on  their  heads  on  the  rim  of  the 
jar  and  drank  from  the  depths.  There  were  only  twelve 
dasha  in  line,  but  they  stopped  every  fifty  feet  while  the 
puppets  were  put  through  their  performances. 

Succeeding  the  cars  came  a  daimio's  train,  preceded 
by  heralds  in  quaint,  mediaeval  costume,  and  presenting 
every  phase  of  the  old-time  parade.  Chinese  sages  and 
instructors,  Korean  prisoners,  falconers  and  priests  walk- 
ed in  line  after  the  daimios,  who  were  mounted  on  horses 
half  hidden  in  clumsy  but  beautiful  old  trappings.  The 
men  in  white  silk  gowns  and  lacquer  hats,  who  took  the 
daimios'  places  at  the  head  of  the  line,  are  descendants 
of  those  great  families  of  the  province,  whose  members 
have  ridden  in  Nagoya's  matsuri  parades  for  centuries. 
After  them  came  an  endless  line  of  men  in  armor,  the 
suits  of  mail  being  either  heirlooms  of  the  wearers  or 
provided  from  the  rich  stores  of  such  things  owned  by 
the  temple.  The  armor  surpassed  the  treasures  of  curio 
shops,  and  the  dents  and  cuts  in  the  cuirasses  and  hel- 
mets attested  their  antiquity.  Having  sat  from  eleven 
o'clock  until  three  in  the  upper  room  with  the  family  of 


Nagoya 


the  shoeman,  we  parted  with  elaborate  expressions  of 
esteem  on  both  sides,  and  with  such  bows  and  prostra- 
tions from  them  that  we  wondered  how  our  guide  would 
contrive  to  slip  a  gift  into  their  hands. 

Nagoya  maiko  and  geisha  are  celebrated  throughout 
Japan  for  their  beauty,  grace,  and  taste  in  dress,  and  a 
geisha  dinner  is  as  much  a  property  of  Nagoya  as  the 
golden  dolphins  of  the  old  castle.  At  ours  we  engaged 
two  geisha  to  sing  and  play,  and  four  maikos  to  dance 


yinrikt'sha  Days  tn  yapan 

in  their  richest  costumes.  As  the  guests  were  Japanese 
the  feast  was  made  a  foreign  dinner  of  as  many  courses 
as  our  guide  and  magician,  Miyashta,  could  conjure  from 
Nagoya's  markets  and  the  Shiurokindo's  kitchen.  Our 
three  friends  rustled  in  early,  clad  in  ceremonial  silk 
gowns,  each  with  his  family  crest  marked  in  tiny  white 
circles  on  the  backs  and  sleeves  of  his  haori,  or  coat. 
At  every  praise  of  Nagoya,  which  the  interpreter  repeat- 
ed to  them  on  our  behalf,  they  rose  from  their  high 
chairs  and  bowed  profoundly.  At  table  the  play  of  the 
knife  and  fork  was  as  difficult  to  them  as  the  chopsticks 
had  once  been  for  us,  but  they  carried  themselves 
through  the  ordeal  with  dignity  and  grace,  and  heroic- 
ally ate  of  all  the  dishes  passed  them. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  dinner  a  gorgeous  paroquet 
of  a  child  appeared  on  our  open  balcony.  Her  kimono 
was  pale  blue  crape,  painted  and  embroidered  with  a 
wealth  of  chrysanthemums  of  different  colors.  Her  obi, 
of  the  heaviest  crinkled  red  crape,  had  flights  of  gray 
and  white  storks  all  over  its  drooping  loops,  and  the 
neck-fold  was  red  crape  woven  with  a  shimmer  of  gold 
thread.  Her  face  was  white  with  rice  powder,  and  her 
hair,  dressed  in  fantastic  loops  and  puffs,  was  tied  with 
bits  of  red  crape  and  gold  cord,  and  set  with  a  whole  dia- 
dem of  silver  chrysanthemums.  She  came  forward  smil- 
ing with  the  most  charming  mixture  of  childlike  shyness 
and  maidenly  self-possession,  becoming  as  much  inter- 
ested in  our  curious  foreign  dresses  as  we  in  her  splen- 
did attire. 

Presently,  against  the  background  of  the  night,  ap- 
peared another  dazzling  figure  —  Oikoto,  the  most  be- 
witching and  popular  maiko  of  the  day  in  Nagoya.  She, 
too,  was  radiant  in  gorgeously-painted  crape,  a  red  and 
gold  striped  obi,  and  a  crown  of  silver  flowers.  Oikoto 
had  the  long,  narrow  eyes,  the  deeply-fringed  lids,  the 
nose  and  contour  of  face  of  Egyptian  women.    Her  hand 


Nagoya 

and  arm  were  exquisite,  but  it  was  her  soft  voice,  her 
dreamy  smile,  and  slowly  lifted  eyelids  that  led  us  cap- 
tive. Oikoto  san  and  the  tiny  maiko  fluttered  about 
the  table,  filling  glasses,  nibbling  sweetmeats,  answering 
questions,  and  accepting  our  frank  admiration  with  grace 
incomparable.  Two  more  brilliantly- dressed  beauties 
entered,  and  with  them  the  two  geisha  and  their  instru- 
ments. One  of  the  geisha,  O  Suwo  san,  was  still  a  beau- 
ty, who  entered  with  a  quiet,  languid  grace  and  dignity, 
and  whose  marvellous  black  eyes  had  magic  in  them. 

The  geisha  struck  the  samisens  with  the  ivory  sticks, 
the  wailing  chorus  began,  and  there  succeeded  a  fan- 
dance,  a  cherry  blossom- dance,  and  an  autumn -dance, 
the  four  brilliant  figures  posing,  gliding,  moving,  turning, 
rising,  and  sinking  slowly  before  our  enchanted  eyes. 
One  dance  demanded  quicker  time,  and  the  dancers 
sang  with  the  chorus,  clapping  their  hands  softly  and 
tossing  their  lovely  arms  and  swinging  sleeves.  The 
three  gentlemen  of  Nagoya  joined  in  that  paean  to  the 
cherry  blossoms  and  the  blue  sky,  accenting  the  verse 
with  their  measured  chanting ;  and  one  of  them,  taking 
part  in  a  musical  dialogue,  danced  a  few  measures  in 
line  with  the  maiko  very  well  and  gracefully. 

The  closing  dance — a  veritable  jig,  with  whirls  and 
jumps,  rapid  hand-clapping,  and  chanting  by  the  maiko 
— ertded  in  the  dancers  suddenly  throwing  themselves 
forward  on  their  hands  and  standing  on  their  heads, 
their  feet  against  the  screens. 

"  That  is  what  we  call  the  foreign  dance :  it  is  in  for- 
eign style,  you  know.  You  like  it  ?"  asked  the  interpret- 
er on  behalf  of  our  guests ;  and  our  danna  san  had  the 
temerity  to  answer  that  it  was  very  well-done,  but  that  it 
was  now  going  out  of  fashion  in  America. 

After  the  seven  dances  the  maiko  stood  in  a  pictu- 
resque row  against  the  balcony  rail  and  fanned  them- 
selves until  supper  was  brought  in  for  them  and  set  on 

»«$ 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japatt 

low  tables,  whereon  were  placed  many  cups  and  bowls 
and  tiny  plates,  with  the  absurd  bits  and  dolls'  portions 
that  constitute  a  Japanese  feast. 

The  incongruous  and  commercial  part  of  the  geisha 
and  maiko  performance  came  in  the  shape  of  a  yard-long 
bill,  on  which  were  traced  charges  of  seventy-five  cents 
an  hour  for  each  maiko,  which  included  the  two  accom- 
panists, and  the  jinrikisha  fares  to  and  from  the  enter- 
tainment. Unwritten  custom  required  of  us  the  supper 
for  the  performers,  and  a  little  gratuity  or  souvenir  to 
each  one. 

When  we  begged  the  lovely  Oikoto  for  her  photograph, 
she  proudly  brought  us  one  which  showed  that  exquisite 
creature  transformed  into  a  dowdy  horror  by  a  foreign 
gown  and  bonnet,  which  the  Nagoya  photographer  keeps 
on  hand  for  the  use  of  his  customers. 


CHAPTER    XXII 
LAKE    BIWA   AND    KIOTO 


After  the  pace  of  the  jinrikisha  the  slow  train  from 
Nagoya  to  Nagahama,  on  Lake  Biwa,  seemed  to  attain  a 
dizzy  speed.  Rising  continually,  we  reached  a  hilly  re- 
gion where  the  road-bed  crossed  a  chain  of  tiny  valleys, 
penetrated  mountain-tunnels,  and  cut  through  pine  for- 
ests and  bamboo  groves. 

At  Nagahama  we  rested  in  a  lake-side  tateba,  content 
with  the  glorious  view,  and  in  no  way  eager  to  search 
for  its  famous  kabe  crapes.  Lake  Biwa,  with  long,  wood- 
ed slopes  running  down  to  tiie  shore,  and  mountains  bar- 
ring all  the  horizon,  with  smooth  water  and  a  blue  sky, 
offers  sixty  miles  of  charming  sail.  Little  thatched-roof 
villages,  and  the  wide  sweeping  gables  of  temples  show 

316 


Lake  Biwa  and  Kioto 

here  and  there  in  the  solitude  of  pines,  and  the  crest  of 
one  high  promontory  is  girt  with  the  white  walls  of  Hi- 
kone  castle.  Many  legends  belong  to  this  mediaeval  for- 
tress, the  scene  of  so  many  famous  events,  whose  last 
daimio  was  murdered  in  Tokio  by  disaffected  followers, 
soon  after  he  negotiated,  as  prime-minister,  the  treaties 
of  1858. 

At  Otsu,  at  the  lower  end  of  the  lake,  the  splendid  old 
temple  of  Miidera  and  its  monastery  on  the  heights  com- 
mand the  town  and  lake,  and  the  soldiers'  memorial  col- 
umn overlooks  the  eight  great  sights  of  Lake  Biwa  which 
are  painted  on  half  the  fans,  kakemonos,  and  screens  of 
Japan.  One  of  these  eight  wonders  is  Miidera,  with  its 
long  and  lofty  avenues,  the  green  twilight  of  its  primeval 
groves,  its  yellow,  moated  walls  and  frowning  gate-ways 
that  hide  in  the  enchanted  forest;  its  ancient  shrines,  its 
terraces,  and  lichen-covered  bell-tower,  home  of  the  le- 
gend of  Benkei  and  his  bell.  Benkei  was  a  muscular 
priest  who  lived  on  Mount  Hiyeizan  overlooking  the  lake. 
The  other  priests  coveted  the  splendid  bell  of  Miidera, 
which  had  been  presented  by  the  ruler  of  the  kingdom 
of  women  living  at  the  bottom  of  Lake  Biwa  to  Hidesato 
for  valiantly  slaying  a  giant  centipede  that  had  frightened 
these  ladies  of  the  lake  by  its  forays.  The  priests  in- 
duced Benkei  to  steal  the  bell  by  promising  him  as  much 
soup  as  he  could  eat,  and  he  threw  it  over  his  shoulder 
and  carried  it  to  the  top  of  the  mountain.  But  its  silvery 
tongue  kept  crying  "  I  want  to  return,"  and  the  priests 
threw  it  down  the  mountain-side,  over  which  it  rolled,  re- 
ceiving many  dents  and  scratches,  to  its  old  bell-tower. 
Near  by  it  is  the  giant  soup-kettle,  in  which  the  priests 
cooked  lienkei's  mess  of  pottage,  and  touching  both 
relics  of  course  verifies  the  legends.  At  the  end  of  the 
monastery  groves  are  large  barracks,  and  troops  of  the 
chubby-faced,  boyish-looking  soldiers  are  always  stroll- 
ing through  the  arching  avenues  of  the  still  old  forestr 

»«7 


yinrtkisha  Days  in  Japan 

The  greatest  sight  of  Biwa,  and  one  of  the  wonders  of 
Japan,  is  the  old  pine-tree  of  Karasaki,  which  has  stood 
for  three  hundred  years  on  a  little  headland  a  couple  of 
miles  above  Otsu,  with  a  tiny  village  and  a  Shinto  tem- 
ple all  its  own.  Its  trunk  is  over  four  feet  in  diameter, 
and,  at  a  height  of  fifteen  feet,  its  boughs  are  trained  lat- 
erally and  supported  by  posts,  so  that  it  looks  like  a 
banyan-tree.  The  branches,  twisted,  bent,  and  looped 
like  writhing  dragons,  cover  more  than  an  acre  of  ground 
with  their  canopy.  The  tips  of  the  boughs  reach  far 
out  over  the  water,  and  the  sensitive  Japanese  hear  a 
peculiar  music  in  the  sifting  of  the  rain-drops  through 
the  foliage  into  the  lake.  High  up  in  the  tree  is  a  tiny 
shrine,  and  the  pilgrims  clap  their  hands  and  stand  with 
clasped  palms,  turning  their  faces  upward  as  they  pray. 
A  heavy  stone  wall  protects  this  sylvan  patriarch  from 
the  washing  of  storms  and  floods. 

Under  the  branches  a  legion  of  small  villagers,  inti- 
mating by  pantomime  their  desire  to  dive  for  pennies, 
untied  their  belts  and  dropped  their  solitary  cotton  gar- 
ments as  unconcernedly  as  one  might  take  off  hat  or 
gloves.  They  frolicked  and  capered  in  the  water  as  much 
at  home  as  fishes  and  as  loath  to  leave  it.  Fleeing  from 
this  body  of  too  attached  followers,  we  were  whirled 
down  the  road  to  Otsu  to  eat  the  famous  Biwa  trout, 
passing  on  the  way  a  woman,  who  sat  at  ease  in  her  bath- 
tub by  her  own  door-step,  calmly  scrubbing  herself  with  a 
bag  of  rice  bran,  and  contemplating  her  neighbors,  the 
road,  and  the  lake  scenery  the  while. 

On  Mount  Hiyeizan,  by  the  ruined  Buddhist  temples 
and  monasteries,  the  American  missionaries  of  different 
denominations  have  a  long- established  summer  camp, 
where  they  enjoy  a  sort  of  Japanese  Chautauqua  circle, 
their  tents  and  buildings  the  only  signs  of  habitation 
where  once  stood  hundreds  of  temples  with  their  thou- 
sands of  priests. 

318 


Lake  Biwa  and  Kioto 

From  the  old  temple  of  Ishiyama,  east  of  Otsu,  is  seen 
the  famous  Seta  bridge  and  Awatsu,  where  the  lake  takes 
on  a  wondrous  silvery  sheen  when  the  sun  shines  and 
the  wind  blows,  these  being  three  more  of  the  famous 
sights  of  Biwa.  The  grounds  of  Ishiyama  contain  what 
is  known  as  a  dry  garden,  where  blackened  rocks  and 
rocks  free  from  every  green  thing  are  piled  fantastically 
with  strange  landscape  resemblances.  In  the  temple  is 
a  prayer-wheel,  which  is  turned  by  thousands  of  pilgrims 
every  summer,  and  in  a  small  room  off  the  temple  a 
priest  showed  us  the  writing-box  and  ink-stone  of  Mu- 
rusaki  Shikibu,  a  poetess  and  novelist  of  the  tenth  cen- 
tury, whose  work,  the  Genji  Moiwgatari,  is  the  great 
classic  of  its  age.  The  remaining  wonders  of  Lake  Biwa 
are  the  flights  of  the  wild  geese,  the  return  of  the  fishing- 
boats  to  Yabashi,  and  Mount  Hira  with  the  winter  snows 
on  its  summit. 

From  Otsu  over  to  the  Kioto  side  of  the  mountains  we 
went  by  train,  rushing  down  the  long  grade  and  through 
tunnels  to  the  great  plain,  where  sits  the  sacred  city,  the 
capital  and  heart  of  old  Japan,  incomparable  Kioto,  Sa- 
ikio,  or  Miako.  We  saw  it  in  the  sunset  light,  the"  west- 
ern hills  throwing  purple  shadows  on  their  own  slopes, 
and  the  long  stretch  of  wheat-fields  at  their  base  turned 
to  a  lake  of  pure  gold.  The  white  walls  of  the  Shogun's 
castle,  the  broad  roof  of  the  old  palace,  and  the  ridges 
of  temples  rose  above  the  low,  gray  plain  of  house  roofs 
and  held  the  sun's  last  level  beams. 

After  the  imitations  and  tawdriness  of  modern  Tokio, 
the  unchanged  aspect  of  the  old  capital  is  full  of  dignity. 
After  many  long  stays  in  spring-time,  midsummer,  and 
midwinter,  Kioto  has  always  remained  to  me  foremost 
of  Japanese  cities.  Yaamis,  the  foreigner's  Kioto  home, 
with  its  steep  terraced  garden,  its  dwarf-pine  and  bloom- 
ing monkey-tree,  its  many  buildings  at  different  levels, 
its  flitting  figures  on  the  outer  galleries,  is  like  no  other 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

hostlery.  Yaami,  proprietor  of  this  picturesque  hotel, 
is  a  personage  indeed.  He  and  his  brother  were  pro- 
fessional guides  until  they  made  their  fortunes.  Their 
shrewd  eyes  saw  further  fortunes  in  a  Kioto  inn,  where 
foreigners  might  find  beds,  chairs,  tables,  knives,  forks, 
and  foreign  food,  and  they  secured  the  old  Ichiriki  tea- 
house, midway  on  the  slope  of  Maruyama,  the  mountain 
walling  in  Kioto  on  the  east.  The  Ichiriki  tea-house 
was  the  place  where  Oishi  Kura  no  Suke,  the  leader  of 
the  Forty- seven  Ronins,  played  the  drunkard  during 
the  two  years  that  he  lived  near  Kioto,  before  he  avenged 
the  death  of  his  lord.  With  it  was  bought  an  adjoining 
monastery,  belonging  to  one  of  the  temples  on  Mount 
Hiyeizan,  and  these  two  original  buildings  have  expand- 
ed and  risen  story  upon  story,  with  detached  wings  here 
and  there,  until  the  group  of  tall  white  buildings,  with 
the  white  flag  floating  high  up  in  the  midst  of  Maru- 
yama's  foliage,  is  quite  castle -like.  While  the  obnox- 
ious foreign  treaties  were  in  force,  no  foreigners  except 
those  in  Japanese  employ  were  allowed  to  live  in  Kioto, 
or  even  to  visit  it  without  a  passport,  and  this  secured 
Yaami  in  his  monopoly.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Yaami  is 
not  the  family  name  of  the  two  pleasant  and  prosper- 
ous-looking men  who  walk  about  in  silk  kimonos,  with 
heavy  gold  watch-chains  wound  about  their  broad  silk 
belts,  and  who  have  the  innocent  faces  of  young  chil- 
dren, save  for  the  shrewdness  of  their  eyes.  Yaami  is  the 
corruption-  of  Yama  Amida  (Hill  of  Buddha),  which  is 
the  name  of  the  hotel,  and  the  two  men  belong  to  the 
Inowye  family,  a  clan  not  less  numerous  in  Japan  than 
the  Smiths  of  English-speaking  countries.  In  parts  of 
the  house  one  finds  relics  of  monastery  days  in  dim  old 
screens  of  fine  workmanship,  and  there  is  a  stone-floored 
kitchen,  vast  as  a  temple,  with  cooks  serious  as  priests, 
wielding  strange  sacrificial  knives,  and  who,  in  midsum- 
mer, wear  an  apron  only,  apparently  as  a  professional 


Lake  Biwa  and  Kioto 

badge  rather  than  as  a  garment.  The  momban,  or  gate- 
keeper, sits,  spider-like,  in  a  web  of  his  own,  a  mere 
doll's  house  by  the  gate-way.  In  olden  times,  and  even 
to-day,  in  large  establishments,  the  momban  announces 
an  arrival  with  strokes  upon  his  gong,  but  this  particu- 
lar functionary  corresponds  more  nearly  to  the  Parisian 
octroi.  All  who  enter  the  gates  answer  for  themselves 
and  pay  tribute,  or  they  are  forever  barred  out.  Even 
coolies  disgorge  their  black-mail  to  the  colony  of  fleet- 
footed  brethren  who  hold  a  valuable  monopoly  at  Ya- 
ami's  gate,  and  in  guilds  and  labor  organizations  the 
Orient  is  ages  older  and  wiser  than  the  Occident. 

All  of  Maruyama's  slope  is  holy  ground  and  pleasure- 
ground.  Tea-houses  and  bath-houses  are  scattered  in 
between  the  great  temples,  and  prayer-gongs  and  pious 
hand -clapping  are  heard  in  unison  with  samisens  and 
revellers'  songs.  Praying  and  pleasuring  go  together, 
and  the  court-yard  of  the  Gion  temple  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  is  lined  with  monkey-shows  and  archery  ranges,  and 
in  the  riding-schools  the  adventurous  may,  for  a  few  co|> 
pers,  mount  a  jerky  horse  and  be  jolted  around  a  shady 
ring.  There,  too,  are  many  rows  of  images  of  fierce, 
red -cloaked  Daruma,  the  Buddhist  saint,  who  sailed 
^oss  from  Korea  on  a  rush  -  leaf.  He  sat  facing  a 
walKfor  nine  years,  and  wore  off  his  lower  limbs,  and 
rtow  his  image,  weighted  with  lead,  is  the  target  for 
merry  ball-throwers,  and  is  seen  in  every  quarter  of  the 
empire. 

From  the  airy  galleries  on  Maruyama  the  city  lies  be- 
low one  like  a  relief  map.  The  river,  the  Kamogawa, 
crossed  at  intervals  by  long  bridges,  cuts  the  city  in  two. 
From  each  bridge  a  street  runs  straight  on  to  the  west- 
ward. By  day  these  thoroughfares  look  like  furrows 
ploughed  through  the  solid  plain  ff  gray-tiled  roofs;  but 
at  night  they  shine  with  thousaiiB  of  lamps  and  lanterns, 
and  their  narrow^  wavering  linqffof  fire  look  like  so  many 


yinrikisha  Days  in   yapan 

torchlight  processions,  and  the  river  is  one  broad  belt  of 
light. 

I  first  saw  Kioto  on  the  last  day  of  the  Gion  matsuri, 
a  festival  which  lasts  for  a  month  and  brings  all  the 
population  out-of-doors  into  one  quarter  during  the  even- 
ing. By  dusk  a  babel  of  music  and  voices  had  arisen, 
which  finally  drew  us  down  the  steep  and  shady  road, 
and  through  the  great  stone  torii,  to  the  Gion's  precincts. 
The  court-yard  was  almost  deserted,  and  looking  through 
the  great  gate-way  to  Shijo  Street  the  view  was  dazzling 
and  the  shouts  and  chatter  deafening.  The  narrow  street 
was  lined  with  rows  of  large  white  paper  lanterns  hang- 
ing above  the  house  doors,  and  rows  hanging  from  the 
eaves.  Lanterned  booths  lined  the  curb,  while  humbler 
venders  spread  their  wares  on  the  ground  in  the  light  of 
riaring  torches.  Crowds  surged  up  and  down,  every  man 
carrying  a  paper  lantern  on  the  end  of  a  short  bamboo 
stick — the  literal  lamp  for  the  feet — women  bearing  small- 
er lanterns,  and  children  delighting  themselves  with  gay- 
ly-colored  paper  shells  for  tiny  candles.  Boys  marched 
and  ran  in  long  single  files,  shouting  a  measured  chant 
as  they  cut  their  way  through  the  crowd  and  whirled 
giant  lanterns  and  blazing  torches  at  the  end  of  long 
poles. 

From  Gion  gate  to  Shijo  bridge  the  street  was  one 
wavering,  glittering  line  of  light,  and  crowded  solidly 
with  people.  Where  the  street  narrows  near  the  bridge 
there  is  a  region  of  theatres  and  side-shows,  and  there 
banners  and  pictures,  drums  and  shouting  ticket-sellers, 
and  a  denser  crowd  of  people  gathered.  A  loud  shout 
and  a  measured  chorus  heralded  a  group  of  men  carry- 
ing a  Brobdingnagian  torch,  a  giant  bamboo  pole  blaz- 
ing fiercely  at  its  lofty  tip.  The  crowd  surged  back  to 
the  walls  as  the  torch-bearers  ran  by  and  on  to  the  mid- 
dle of  Shijo  bridge,  where  they  waved  the  burning  wand 
in  fiery  signals  to  the  other  bridges  that  the  real  proces- 

224 


Lake  Biwa  and  Kioto 

sion  was  starting.  More  torches  and  lanterns,  lines  of 
priests  in  garments  of  silk  and  gauze,  wearing  strange 
hats,  beating  and  blowing  strange  instruments ;  and  a 
sacred  red  chair,  reason  for  all  this  ceremony,  was  borne 
on  from  the  Gion  to  a  distant  Shinto  sanctuary  to  remain 
until  the  matsuri  of  the  following  year. 

From  Shijo  bridge  to  Sanjo  bridge  Kioto's  river-bed 
is  like  a  scene  from  fairy-land  throughout  the  summer, 
and  during  the  Gion  matsuri  the  vision  is  enhanced.  The 
tea-houses  that  line  the  river-bank  with  picturesquely 
galleried  fronts  set  out  acres  of  low  platform  tables  in 
the  clear,  shallow  stream.  The  water  ripples  pleasantly 
around  them,  giving  a  grateful  sense  of  coolness  to  these 
a;sthetic  Japanese,  who  sit  in  groups  on  the  open  plat- 
forms, smoking  their  pipes  and  feasting  under  the  light 
of  their  rows  of  lanterns.  All  the  broad  river-bed  is 
ablaze  with  lights  and  torches,  and  on  the  dry,  gravelly 
stretches  a  multitude  of  small  peddlers,  venders,  and 
showmen  set  up  their  attractive  tents  and  add  to  the  gen- 
eral glitter  and  illumination.  Hundreds  linger  and  stroll 
on  the  bridges  to  admire  the  gay  sight,  for  as  only  this 
people  could  have  conjured  up  so  brilliant  a  spectacle 
out  of  such  simple  and  every-day  means,  so  only  they  can 
fully  enjoy  its  beauty  and  charm.  All  the  children  wear 
their  gayest  holiday  clothes  on  such  a  great  matsuri 
night,  and  the  graceful  women  of  the  old  capital,  bare- 
headed, rustling  in  silk  and  gauze,  their  night-black  hair 
spread  in  fantastic  loops  and  caught  with  beautiful  hair- 
pins, are  worthy  of  their  surroundings. 

We  left  the  bridge  and  wandered  over  the  loose  gravel 
and  rocks  of  the  river-beds,  crossing  by  many  planks  and 
tiny  bridges  from  one  small  island  of  shingle  to  another. 
There  were  countless  fruit-stands,  with  their  ingenious 
little  water-fountains  spraying  melons  and  peaches  to  a 
dewy  coolness  and  freshness,  hair-pin  stands  glittering 
with  silver  flowers,  and  fan  and  toy  and  flower  booths, 


yinrikisha  Days  in   Japan 

and  all  the  while  we  wandered  there  the  people  watched 
and  followed  with  a  respectful  curiosity  that  amused  but 
could  not  annoy.  Attracted  by  the  beautiful  face  of  a 
young  girl  just  within  the  curtained  door  of  a  side-show, 
we  paid  the  one  cent  entrance  fee  to  see  the  conjurers. 
The  tent  was  empty  when  we  entered,  but  such  a  stream 
of  natives  poured  in  after  us  as  to  delight  the  proprietor 
and  encourage  the  musicians  to  pound  out  more  violent 
airs.  A  few  miserable  poodles  were  made  to  walk  on  two 
legs  and  otherwise  discomfort  themselves  at  the  bidding 
of  the  beautiful  girl,  whose  strange  soft  eyes  and  lovely 
face  were  set  off  by  an  elaborate  coiffure,  a  coronet  of 
silvery  hair-pins,  and  a  kimono  of  gray  silk  shot  with 
many  tinsel  threads.  We  foreigners  found  the  faces  and 
holiday  garb  of  the  people  more  interesting  than  the  per- 
formance, and  the  natives  in  turn  seemed  equally  ab- 
sorbed in  watching  us.  Horse-shows,  where  daring  but 
terrified  Japanese  bestrode  steeds  and  ambled  three  times 
around  the  ring  for  a  penny,  puppet-shows,  juggler-shows, 
and  peep-shows  drew  us  in  turn  from  one  end  of  the  river- 
bed fair  to  the  other,  and  when  too  weary  to  walk  we 
remounted  to  the  bridge  to  admire  afresh  this  feast 
of  lanterns,  until  at  midnight  we  sought  the  groves  of 
Maruyama. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 
KIOTO    TEMPLES 


Kioto  is  seen  at  its  best  in  summer-time.  In  the  fulness 

and  color  of  its  out-door  life.    Though  the  great  plain  of 

the  city  bakes  and  quivers  in  the  sun,  the  heat  is  no 

greater  than  in  other  cities.    The  views  from  Maruyama 

are  always  enchanting,  and  the  sunset  sky  is  not  lovelier 

than  the  dawn,  when  all  the  hill-side  lies  in  cool,  green 

226 


Kioto  Temples 

shade,  when  the  opposite  mountain-wall  wears  a  veil  of 
rose  and  lilac,  and  the  air  above  the  plain  of  gray  roofs 
is  fuU  of  filmy  mists  and  tiny  smoke-wreaths. 

All  travellers  are  abroad  at  sunrise  or  in  the  early 
morning,  for  by  ten  o'clock  the  sun  blazes  down  with 
fury,  and  humane  people  keep  their  jinrikisha  coolies 
and  themselves  in-doors.  With  the  cooling  dusk  mos- 
quitoes swarm  from  all  these  gardens  and  hill-side  groves, 
and  the  victim  fans  and  slaps  until  he  creeps  for  safety 
under  his  mosquito-net,  which,  unhappily,  does  not  ex- 
clude the  nimble  flea,  whose  ravages  test  both  his  en- 
durance and  his  temper.  At  sunrise  all  the  temples  in 
Kioto  open  their  gates  for  the  first  mass,  and  at  dawn 
pilgrimages  to  these  sacred  spots  may  begin,  the  odor 
and  silence  of  that  dewy  hour  adding  to  their  peace  and 
sanctity. 

All  the  way  from  Yaami's  to  the  Yasaka  pagoda  and 
the  Kiomidzu  temple  the  hill-side  is  covered  with  temple 
and  monastery  grounds,  the  way  leading  through  broad, 
tree-shaded  avenues  and  narrow  paths  by  bamboo  groves 
or  evergreen  thickets.  Wide,  flagged  walks  and  grand 
stair-ways  follow  the  terraces  to  temples  and  bell-towers, 
screened  by  open-work  walls  and  approached  through 
monumental  gate-ways  made  beautiful  by  carving,  gild- 
ing and  painting,  inlaid  metals,  and  fine  tiles.  Crossing 
from  one  temple  enclosure  to  another,  the  walk  extends 
for  two  miles  along  the  brow  of  the  hill  through  beauti- 
ful grounds.  The  park-like  demesne  of  Higashi  Otani, 
with  its  imperial  tombs,  adjoins  Yaami's,  and  next  it  is 
the  Kotaiji,  with  its  noble  avenues.  At  the  end  of  one 
broad  path- way,  traversing  the  upper  part  of  the  Kotaiji 
grounds,  the  Yasaka  pagoda,  with  its  five  stories  of  curv- 
ing roofs  and  gables  hung  with  old  bronze  bells,  stands 
like  a  picture  in  the  arching  frame  of  green.  These  ven- 
erable pagodas,  their  walls  covered  with  wondrous  carv- 
ings and  bracket!  ngs,  faded  to  dim  red  and  tarnished 

337 


ytnrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

gold,  with  the  gray  and  white  tiles  of  their  picturesque 
roofs  half  overgrown  with  mosses  and  vines,  the  topmost 
ridge  finished  with  a  tapering,  spiral  piece  of  iron,  de- 
light the  lover  of  the  picturesque.  Yasaka's  cracked 
and  tongueless  bells  have  long  ceased  to  swing  and  ring 
with  every  breeze,  but  they  give  an  airy  and  fantastic 
touch  to  the  fine  old  structure.  The  pagoda  dates  from 
the  sixth  century,  and  for  twelve  hundred  years  its  four 
altars  have  heard  the  prayers  of  faithful  Buddhists.  The 
early  light  gilds  its  eastern  wall,  and  the  rich  sunset 
makes  of  it  a  palace  of  the  imagination.  To  me  it  seemed 
most  beautiful  one  late  afternoon,  when,  hurrying  down 
the  steep  steps  of  a  narrow  street  behind  it,  I  saw  its 
outlines,  delicate  and  strong,  against  a  glowing  orange 
sky. 

All  about  the  pagoda  and  the  neighboring  slopes  of 
Kiomidzu  are  potteries  and  shops  for  the  sale  of  the 
cheap  porcelain  and  earthen-ware  that  pilgrims  and  visit- 
ors are  prone  to  buy  on  their  way  to  and  from  the  temples. 
The  eminence  is  known  as  Teapot  Hill,  and  the  long, 
steep  street  leading  from  Gojo  bridge  to  the  Kiomidzu 
gates  is  lined  on  either  side  of  its  hilly  half-mile  with 
china  shops.  There  one  may  collect  his  three  hundred 
and  sixty-five  teapots  in  an  hour,  and  few  leave  without 
a  souvenir  of  Kiomidzu  porcelain,  be  it  from  Kanzan's  or 
Dohachi's  godowns  of  exquisite  wares,  or  from  the  long 
rows  of  charming  little  open  shops.  Kiomidzu  is  the 
centre  of  the  porcelain-makers'  district,  as  the  manufact- 
urers of  faience  are  grouped  together  in  the  Awata 
quarter,  a  mile  beyond,  and  behind  the  little  shop-fronts 
and  blank  walls  are  busy  work-rooms  and  burning  kilns. 

The  founding  of  the  Kiomidzu  temple  is  lost  in  fable, 
and  its  legends  are  many  and  confusing.  All  the  Japan- 
ese rulers,  warriors,  and  Shoguns  have  had  something  to 
do  with  the  place,  and  every  foot  of  its  enclosure  is  his- 
toric.    It  is  the  popular  temple  of  the  people,  enshrin- 

338 


Kioto  Temples 

ing  one  of  the  thirty -three  famous  Kwannons  of  the 
empire,  tQ  which  pilgrims  flock  by  thousands,  and  where 
one  sees  the  most  active  forms  of  the  faith.  Climbing 
the  breathless  hill-slopes  and  stone  stair-ways  the  visitor 
reaches  a  giant  gate-way,  in  whose  shadow  mendicant 
priests  stand  with  extended  bowl,  straw  hats  concealing 
them  to  the  shoulders,  and  their  maize  and  purple  gar- 
ments hung  with  rosaries.  There  are  two  pagodas  and 
innumerable  stone  lanterns  and  shrines,  upon  which  the 
faithful  toss  pebbles  as  they  pray.  If  the  stone  remains 
the  prayer  is  answered,  and  the  pilgrim  proceeds  with  a 
lightened  heart.  The  Hondo,  or  main  hall,  is  a  most 
ancient  building,  one  half  resting  on  the  slope  of  the 
hill  and  the  rest  extending  in  a  broad  platform  propped 
up  by  heavy  timbers  and  scaffolding  over  the  face  of  a 
precipice.  From  this  platform  jealous  husbands  used 
to  hurl  their  wives ;  those  who  survived  the  fall  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  to  the  jagged  rocks  below  being 
proved  innocent  of  wrong -doing,  and  those  who  per- 
ished guilty.  There  are  no  rows  of  ticketed  clogs  at 
the  steps  of  the  Hondo,  nor  soft,  clean  mats  within. 
The  hall  is  open  and  benches  are  set  before  the  altar, 
where  the  weary,  dusty  pilgrim  may  sit  and,  resting, 
pray.  Votive  tapers  are  brought  to  the  shrine,  and  the 
low  beams  overhead  are  covered  with  votive  pictures. 

One  fortunate  afternoon  we  chanced  upon  a  matsuri 
at  Kiomidzu.  All  Teapot  Hill  was  crowded  with  peo- 
ple, girls  and  children  in  their  gayly-colored  crapes  and 
gauzes  vying  in  brightness  with  the  decorated  houses. 
Priests,  sitting  on  small,  canopied  platforms,  hammered 
silver-toned  gongs  to  call  the  faithful  to  give  offerings. 
Coins  were  tossed  in  generously  on  the  blankets  where 
the  priests  sat,  but  they  were  not  the  thick  modern  cop- 
per sens,  nor  yet  silver.  Money-changers  had  their  lit- 
tle stands  along  the  via  sacra,  and  in  exchange  for  a 
sen  the  believers  received  a  handful  of  ancient  rins  and 

M9 


Jinrtkisha  Days  in  Japan 

half-rins.  Thus  provided,  the  pilgrim  could  bestow  his 
pious  alms  on  each  group  of  priests,  and  if  lifi  followed 
the  polite  custom  of  wrapping  any  money  gift  in  a  bit 
of  soft  paper,  the  priests  could  not  tell  whether  he  had 
thrown  silver  or  copper.  Within  the  temple  grounds 
tateba  were  crowded  with  feasters  and  ten -drinkers, 
dozens  of  fruit-stands  were  piled  with  slices  of  water- 
melon, and  fans  painted  with  Kiomidzu  scenes  were 
sold  on  every  side. 

Inside  the  temple  itself  the  scuffle  of  clogs  and  mut- 
terings  of  pilgrims  drowned  all  sounds  save  the  silvery 
notes  of  the  gongs.  On  the  image  -  covered  altar,  one 
hundred  and  ninety  feet  in  length,  veiled  by  clouds  of 
incense,  were  dimly  visible  the  gilded  statue  of  the  di- 
vine Kwannon,  the  special  patroness  of  Kiomidzu,  and 
the  figures  of  the  priests.  It  was  not  easy  to  pick  one's 
way  among  the  kneeling  multitudes  offering  their  fer- 
vent prayers  oblivious  to  all  surroundings.  As  one  pil- 
grim departed  the  rest  crowded  forward,  continuing  the 
beseeching  "" Namu  Amida  Butsu'^  (Hear  me,  Great 
Lord  Buddha)  which  they  mutter  so  rapidly  that  only  a 
long-drawn  ^'- Na-na-na-na-na-a-a''''  is  audible  as  they 
press  their  palms  together  and  wind  their  beads  around 
their  hands. 

In  the  second  temple,  or  Amida,  were  more  candles, 
incense,  and  priests,  and  more  kneeling  people.  At  the 
end  of  the  hanging  platform  of  this  temple  is  a  small, 
latticed  shrine  dedicated  to  Kamnosube-no-Kami,  the 
goddess  who  watches  over  lovers.  He  who  would  make 
sure  of  the  affections  of  his  beloved  buys  a  printed 
prayer  from  the  priest,  rolls  it  into  a  narrow  strip,  and 
then,  with  the  thumb  and  little  finger  of  the  right-hand, 
ties  it  to  Kamnosube-no-Kami's  grating,  and  implores 
her  aid.  If  any  other  fingers  are  used  to  tie  the  knot, 
or  if  they  even  touch  the  prayer  -  paper,  the  charm  is 
broken  and  the  goddess  is  deaf.     While  we  looked  on 

230 


THE  TRUE-LOVER'S  SHRINK  AT  KIOMIDZO 


Kioto  Temples 

one  pretty  creature  in  a  red  crape  underdress  and  a 
dark-blue  gauze  kimono,  who  blushed  most  beautifully, 
bent  her  anxious  face  to  the  grating  and  deftly  wound 
her  fingers  in  and  out.  Following  her  a  middle-aged 
coolie  tossed  in  his  fractional  coin,  rang,  clapped,  and 
tied  his  sentimental  petition  to  the  lattice. 

Holiday  crowds  poured  up  and  down  the  broad  paved 
walks,  wandered  about  the  paths,  or  gathered  in  the  pa- 
vilions, while  new  throngs  toiled  up  the  stone  staircases 
to  join  in  the  festival.  On  the  overhanging  platforms 
sacred  dances  had  been  performed  all  day,  giving  place 
towards  nightfall  to  the  low  tables  covered  with  red 
blankets,  around  which  companies  picturesquely  grouped 
themselves,  while  pretty  nesans  pattered  back  and  forth 
to  serve  them.  The  whole  scene  was  so  spectacular  and 
fascinating  that  we  sat  there  watching  the  moving 
crowds  and  looking  out  over  the  city  below  us  until 
the  sun  sank  in  clouds  of  splendid  color,  and  twink- 
ling lights  began  to  creep  upward  from  the  streets. 

Near  the  top  of  Teapot  Hill  a  narrow  lane  diverges 
into  a  dense  bamboo  grove,  where  the  feathery  tips  meet 
far  overhead,  and  only  a  green  twilight  filters  down  to 
the  base  of  the  myriad  slender  columns.  This  bamboo 
grove  is  one  of  the  finest  in  Kioto,  and  its  cool  shade  is 
most  grateful  on  a  summer  day.  Beyond  it  is  the  fa- 
mous Spectacle  Bridge,  a  massive  stone  pile,  whose  two 
low  arches  are  not  unlike  a  bowed  spectacle  -  frame. 
The  lotus-pond  which  it  crosses  is  surrounded  in  the 
early  summer  mornings  with  breakfasting  parties,  who 
sit  there  to  see  the  splendid  flowers  open  their  cups 
with  the  first  rays  of  the  sun.  When  that  show  is  over 
these  flower-lovers  wander  through  the  farther  confines 
of  Nishi  Otani,  with  its  superb  bronze  gates  and  dragon- 
guarded  tanks,  and  its  imperial  tombs  hidden  away  in 
the  quiet  groves. 

The  chain  of  temples  still  lengthens  southward,  and 


Jtnrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

among  the  most  ancient,  surrounded  with  walls  of  Titanic 
bowlders,  is  the  Dai  Butsu  temple,  with  its  huge  image 
of  gilded  wood,  and  its  fallen  bell,  whose  interior  would 
make  a  temple  in  itself.  A  stone  monument,  the  Mimi- 
zuka,  covers  the  heap  of  thousands  of  human  ears,  cut  by 
Hideyoshi's  generals  from  the  heads  of  enemies  slain  in 
the  Korean  expedition,  salted  and  brought  home  as  proof 
of  prowess.  Last  is  the  Sanjiusangendo,  or  Hall  of  the 
Thirty-three  Thousand  Buddhas,  which,  with  its  rows  and 
rows  of  tall  gilded  statues,  is  a  curious  place,  but  less  like 
a  sanctuary  than  a  wholesale  warehouse  of  sacred  images. 
Northward  from  Yaami's  the  chain  of  temples  extends 
along  the  leafy  hill-side,  first  among  them  being  the  great 
Chioin  sanctuary,  one  of  the  largest,  oldest,  and  richest 
in  Kioto.  Its  colossal  gate-way,  its  long  avenues,  great 
stone  embankments,  terraces,  staircases,  and  groves  of 
ancient  trees  proclaim  its  age  and  endless  honors. 
Stretching  over  surrounding  acres  run  the  yellow  walls  of 
its  monastery  grounds  and  priests'  houses.  The  Chioin's 
altar  is  a  mass  of  carved  and  gilded  ornaments  surround- 
ing a  massive  golden  shrine,  while  the  ceiling  and  walls 
of  the  vast  interior  are  hardly  less  splendid.  Occasional 
worshippers  kneel  in  the  vast  matted  hall  muttering  their 
prayers,  but  usually  only  a  solitary  old  priest  is  seen  in- 
dustriously hammering  at  a  drum,  shaped  like  a  huge, 
round  sleigh-bell.  From  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  un- 
til the  temple  closes  at  four  in  the  afternoon  the  hard, 
mechanical  thunk,  thiink  never  stops.  A  nice  old  woman, 
who  must  be  a  professional  mender,  judging  by  her  in- 
cessant patching  and  darning  of  blue-cotton  garments, 
takes  care  of  the  shoes  while  visitors  roam  through  the 
temple  stocking-footed ;  and  proudly  does  she  point  out, 
among  the  bracketed  eaves,  the  sun-umbrella  which  the 
great  builder  of  the  temple  purposely  left  there.  Back  of 
the  main  temple  are  other  shrines  and  suites  of  recep- 
tion-rooms, with  screens  and  ceilings  decorated  by  fa- 

»34 


Kioto  Temples 

mous  artists,  and  quiet  comers  where  abbot  and  priest 
may  sit  and  look  upon  the  exquisite  little  gardens. 

If  I  were  a  good  Buddhist  I  should  say  a  prayer  or  two 
to  the  Chioin's  great  bell,  an  inverted  cup  of  bronze 
eighteen  feet  in  height,  breathing  music  so  sweet  that  it 
thrills  the  listener,  and  ringing  so  seldom  that  no  one 
willingly  misses  its  voice.  This  bell  hangs  by  itself  in 
a  shady  place  at  the  top  of  a  long  stone  staircase,  and  is 
struck  from  the  outside  by  a  swinging  wooden  beam  that 
brings  out  soft  reverberations  without  jar  or  clang.  This 
huge  hammer  is  unchained  on  rare  days  of  the  month  at 
the  sunrise  hour,  and  in  the  stillness  of  dawn  one  can- 
not tell  whence  the  sound  comes.  It  is  in  the  whole  air ; 
under  one's  feet,  or  tingling  and  beating  within  one's 
body,  while  yet  the  ear  seems  to  drink  in  the  very  ec- 
stasy of  sound.  

About  Nanjenji's  lofty  gate-way  are  clustering  tea-bush- 
es, and  between  its  ancient  shrine,  its  tombs,  and  pictu- 
resque bell-tower  modern  engineering  has  brought  the 
aqueduct  from  Lake  liiwa,  the  long  tunnel  emerging  from 
the  hill-side  back  of  the  buildings.  Further  on  are  lyekan- 
do,  with  its  lotus  lake  and  verdant  cemetery;  Niyakuoji's 
pretty  garden  and  cascade ;  and  Shishigatami,  Shinniodo, 
and  Yoshida,  each  with  its  distinctive  charm  and  interest. 

The  way  from  these  sacred  places,  passing  through  the 
potters'  district  of  Awata,  and  coming  suddenly  out  on  a 
level  of  rice  fields,  with  Kurodani's  pagoda  and  grove 
rising  like  an  island  from  their  midst,  has  been  likened 
to  the  abrupt  transportation  from  Rome  to  the  Cam- 
pagna.  Kurodani  is  a  beautiful  old  sanctuary,  and  the 
steep  hill  on  which  stands  its  great  pagoda  is  an  ideal 
Buddhist  burial-ground.  Tombs,  stone  tablets,  and  lan- 
terns, and  hundreds  of  images  of  Buddha,  in  stone  and 
bronze,  crowd  against  each  other,  and  some  priest  or  pil- 
grim, ever  picturesque,  is  always  moving  up  or  down  the 
broad  gray  staircase. 

«3S 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 


CHAPTER   XXIV 
THE    MONTO    TEMPLES    AND    THE   DAIMONJI 

As  an  evidence  of  the  vitality  of  their  faith  the  Monto 
Buddhists  point  to  their  great  new  temple  in  the  south- 
ern part  of  the  city.  This  Higashi  Hongwanji  (Eastern 
Temple)  was  eight  years  in  building,  at  an  enormous 
cost,  and  is  the  largest  temple  in  Japan.  The  squared 
trunks  of  keyaki-trees  that  support  floor  and  roof  are  of 
a  fine,  close  grain,  that  lasts  for  centuries  without  paint 
or  preserving  process,  A  collection  of  thick  black  ropes 
hangs  from  the  beams,  all  of  them  made  from  the  hair 
of  pious  women  too  poor  to  offer  other  contributions. 
The  largest  rope  is  five  inches  in  diameter  and  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  long,  the  hair,  wound  in  a  dozen  sep- 
arate strands  around  a  slender  core  of  hemp,  having 
been  given  by  three  thousand  five  hundred  of  the  pious 
maids  and  matrons  of  the  province  of  Echizen.  Here 
and  there  in  this  giant  cable  are  pathetic  threads  of 
white  hair,  the  rest  being  deep  black.  Each  summer 
pious  men  came  to  give  their  days'  labor  to  the  temple 
when  they  had  no  money.  The  best  workers  in  wood 
from  several  provinces,  craftsmen  descended  from  gen- 
erations of  wood-carvers,  were  brought  together  to  labor 
for  several  years  on  the  decorative  panels,  carving  from 
solid  blocks  of  hard  keyaki  wonderful  birds  and  flow- 
ers, curling  waves  and  dashing  spray  —  designs  full  of 
movement  and  life. 

This  Shin,  or  Monto  sect  of  Buddhists,  is  one  of  the 
richest  and  largest.  .  Its  temples  are  always  built  in  the 

336 


The  Monto  Temples  and  the  Daimonji 

heart  of  cities,  and  always  in  pairs,  a  Nishi  Hongwanji 
(Western  Temple)  and  a  Higashi  Hongwanji  (Eastern 
Temple)  being  found  in  Tokio,  Kioto,  and  Osaka.  At 
the  Nishi  Hongwanji  of  Kioto  the  vast  interior  discloses 
masses  of  carving,  gilding,  lacquer,  damascening,  and 
paintings  on  golden  groundwork,  and  Monto  altars  are 
more  splendid  than  those  of  any  other  sect.  This  Hong- 
wanji is  very  rich,  having  been  endowed  with  lands  and 
mines  in  the  days  of  Hideyoshi,  its  special  protector, 
and  the  temple  enclosure  holds  many  relics  of  the  Taiko, 
Connected  with  the  temple  is  a  great  yashiki,  or  abbot's 
residence,  and  the  wall -screens  and  superb  ceilings, 
brought  from  Hideyoshi's  castle  at  Fushimi,  south  of 
Kioto,  to  adorn  the  suites  of  reception-rooms,  are  finer 
than  any  in  the  imperial  palace.  The  carved,  gilded, 
and  lacquered  ceilings,  the  wonderful  paintings  on  gold- 
leaf  surfaces,  the  damascened  mountings  of  the  screens, 
the  vast  audience  hall,  the  private  rooms,  the  No  pavil- 
ion, and  the  court  where  the  enemies'  heads  were  dis- 
played, are  all  magnificent.  In  a  corner  of  the  grounds 
is  the  pleasure -garden  of  Hideyoshi,  a  leafy,  lake -cen- 
tred paradise,  and  a  marvel  of  artistic  arrangement,  with 
its  winding  water  overhung  with  wistaria  arbors,  crossed 
by  picturesque  bridges,  reflecting  its  stone  lanterns,  thick- 
ets of  oleander,  bamboo,  pine,  palm,  and  banana  trees, 
and  the  two  beautiful  miniature  palaces  within  the  maze. 
On  a  pine-covered  knoll  is  the  thatched  summer-house, 
where  the  fierce  yet  poetic  warrior  sat  in  his  armor  to 
watch  the  moon  rise  over  the  trees  and  turn  the  lake  to 
a  silver  shield  at  his  feet. 

The  Hongwanji  services  are  splendid  and  impressive 
ceremonies ;  the  companies  of  gorgeously-clad  priests, 
the  chanting,  the  incense,  the  lighted  tapers,  the  bells, 
the  opening  of  the  doors  of  the  golden  shrine  to  display 
the  image  of  Buddha,  all  bearing  a  strange  resemblance 
to  the  worship  of  Romish  churches.   The  faithful  kneel, 


yinriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

touch  themselves,  and  use  the  rosary  in  prayer ;  and  high 
mass  at  the  Hongwanji  might  almost  be  high  mass  at 
St.  Mark's.  Mass  is  celebrated  at  five  o'clock  on  every 
morning  of  the  year,  and  all  day  worshippers  may  come 
to  kneel  and  pray  before  the  altars.  On  the  first  and 
fifteenth  days  of  each  month  special  services  are  held  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  every  January  recurs 
a  week  of  prayer  in  honor  of  the  founder  of  the  Shin 
sect,  when  priests  come  from  all  parts  of  the  empire  to 
the  mother-temple.  The  fortnightly  afternoon  services 
consist  of  readings  from  the  sacred  scriptures,  and  the 
chanting  of  Japanese  and  Chinese  sacred  poems  by  some 
twenty  priests  in  black  gauze  stoles ;  a  larger  chorus, 
hidden  behind  the  central  shrine  and  altar,  joining  in 
and  responding.  The  high-priest,  in  a  cardinal  and  gold 
brocade  kesa,  sits  directly  facing  the  shrine,  and  at  in- 
tervals touches  the  swinging  plate  of  bronze  used  as  a 
gong  in  the  order  of  worship.  The  golden  shrine,  in  a 
great  gilded  alcove,  or  chancel,  bears  countless  gilded 
lotus  flowers  and  candelabra,  and  slender  columns  of  in- 
cense rise  from  the  priests'  low  reading-desk.  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  chanted  service  the  doors  of  the  shrine 
are  opened,  and  the  sacred  image  displayed  in  a  silence 
broken  only  by  low  strokes  on  the  gong.  Then  the 
priests  file  away,  and  the  faithful,  flocking  into  the  va- 
cant place  behind  the  rail,  and  kneeling  where  the  priests 
have  knelt,  prostrate  themselves,  rub  their  rosaries  in 
their  palms,  and  repeat  with  ecstatic  fervor  the  invoca- 
tion :  "  Namu  Amida  Butsu  "  (Hail,  Great  Lord  Buddha). 
Every  year,  on  the  temple  steps,  the  contributions  of 
rice  from  distant  provinces  are  stacked  high  in  their 
cylindrical  straw  bales,  themselves  emblems  of  abun- 
dance. This  rice  is  sent  as  an  annual  tribute  from  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  empire  to  the  head-temple  of  the  sect 
at  Kioto,  to  be  used  for  offerings  in  the  sanctuaries,  for 
the  priests'  food,  and  for  alms  to  the  poor. 

?38 


The  Monto  Temples  and  the  Daimonji 

The  present  high  priest  has  a  longer  genealogy  than 
the  Emperor,  and  is  the  seventy-third  of  his  family,  in 
direct  succession,  to  live  in  the  same  Kioto  yashiki.  Be- 
sides his  ecclesiastical  rank,  he  is  a  nobleman  of  the 
first  order,  and  moves  in  the  imperial  circle,  his  modern 
brougham  with  liveried  men  being  often  seen  driving  in 
and  out  of  the  palace  enclosures  in  the  western  end  of 
the  city.  Besides  his  temple  services,  he  directs  the 
large  college  which  the  Hongwanji  maintains  for  the 
education  of  young  men  for  the  priesthood  and  for  ad- 
vanced philosophical  studies  for  lay  students.  In  its 
library  is  a  vast  literature  of  Buddhism,  the  scrolls  of 
silk  and  paper  in  boxes  of  priceless  gold  lacquer  facing 
the  neatly-bound  volumes  of  Sinnett,  Sir  Edwin  Arnold, 
and  other  foreign  writers.  The  college  employs  teachers 
of  all  European  languages,  and  intends  to  send  mission- 
ary workers  to  European  countries.  One  of  the  priestly 
instructors,  Mr.  Akamatsu,  spent  several  years  in  Eng- 
land, and  has  made  comparative  religions  his  great  study. 
This  admirable  scholar  is  an  admirable  talker  as  well, 
and  every  student  of  Buddhism  in  Japan  is  referred  to 
his  vast  stores  of  information.  The  breadth  and  liber- 
ality of  Mr.  Akamatsu's  views  are  shown  in  his  belief  in 
the  brotherhood  of  all  religions,  their  likeness,  and  their 
convergence  towards  "  that  far-off,  divine  event,  towards 
which  the  whole  creation  moves."  It  was  he  who  drew 
up  and  translated  that  new  canon  of  his  faith,  which  in- 
troduced passages  from  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and 
who  explained  that  these  contained  exactly  the  Bud- 
dhist tenets.  The  Shin  Buddhists  are  called  the  Protes- 
tants of  that  faith.  The  priests  may  marry,  and  are  not 
required  to  fast,  to  do  penance,  make  pilgrimages,  or 
abstain  from  animal  food.  They  believe  in  salvation  by 
faith  in  Buddha,  and  in  those  ever- higher  transmigra- 
tions of  the  soul  which  finally  attain  Nirvana.  Their 
priests  maintain  that  the  presence  of  Christian  mission- 

339 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

aries  has  made  no  difference  with  their  people,  the  schol- 
arly and  intelligent  seeing  that  the  two  faiths  differ  only 
in  a  few  articles  and  practices.  For  the  lower  orders, 
these  spiritual  shepherds  declare  Buddhism  to  be  the 
better  religion,  its  practice  for  centuries  having  made 
the  masses  the  gentle,  kindly,  patient,  and  contented 
souls  that  they  are.  One  priest,  sent  to  Europe  to  study 
the  effects  of  Christianity,  reported  that  vice,  crime,  and 
misery  were  greater  there  than  in  Japan,  and  that  the 
belief  of  the  west  seemed  less  able  to  repress  those  evils 
than  the  belief  of  the  east.  These  Monto  priests,  too, 
express  broad  views  about  the  reciprocity  of  nations  and 
the  fair  exchange  of  missionaries.  Now  that  English 
clergymen  and  thinkers  study  Buddhism  in  the  monas- 
teries of  Ceylon,  avowing  their  acceptance  of  the  articles 
with  much  sacred  ceremony,  Monto  apostles  may  yet 
preach  to  the  people  of  England  and  America.  How- 
ever this  may  be,  the  priests  do  not  fear  the  proselyting 
labors  of  the  Doshisha  teachers  in  Kioto,  and  speak 
warmly  of  its  good  works,  and  particularly  of  its  hospi- 
tal and  training-school  for  nurses. 

In  1885  the  first  American  missionaries  came  to  Kio- 
to, and  as  the  sacred  city  is  beyond  the  treaty  limits, 
the  college  and  hospital  are  maintained  under  the  name 
of  the  Doshisha  company,  and  the  foreigners  engaged 
in  the  work  are  ostensibly  in  Japanese  employ.  Back 
of  the  Christian  Japanese,  who  stands  as  president  of 
this  company,  are  the  rich  Mission  Boards,  which  furnish 
the  money,  and  direct  its  expenditure  and  the  method 
of  work.  Each  teacher  in  the  Dosliisha  school  is  really 
a  missionary,  and  outside  the  class-room  carries  on  ac- 
tive evangelical  work.  School  buildings,  hospital,  and 
residences  for  the  foreign  teachers  all  front  on  the  high 
yellow  walls  of  the  imperial  palace  grounds,  significant 
testimony  to  the  changes  that  have  come,  the  barriers 
and  prejudices  that  have  given  way.     The  school  is 


The  Monto  Temples  and  the  Daimonji 

crowded  to  its  furthest  capacity,  the  hospital  is  besieged, 
and  physicians  overworked.  The  teachers  claim  that 
all  the  students  are  Christians,  that  the  new  religion  is 
spreading,  and  that  the  people  are  most  anxious  to  know 
about  it.  While  they  do  not  affirm  that  Buddhism  and 
the  old  religions  are  dying,  the  success  of  their  work 
sustains  their  conviction.  They  have  erected  substan- 
tial brick  buildings  and  comfortable  dwellings,  and  have 
a  general  air  of  permanency.  The  Dosliisha  was  fortu- 
nate in  its  founders  and  first  corps  of  instructors  and  the 
records  they  made,  so  that,  when  disasters  overtook  it, 
that  prestige  prevailed,  and  after  unhappy  dissensions  the 
Doshisha  returned  to  its  original  purposes  and  lines,  and 
'the  schools  and  hospital  continue  their  excellent  work. 

Of  foreign  missions  in  Japan  there  are  the  P'rench 
Catholic,  Russian -Greek,  English  and  Canadian  work- 
ers belonging  to  both  Established  Church  and  dis- 
senting sects,  while  the  Foreign  Mission  Boards  of  the 
United  States  have  more  than  three  hundred  agents 
and  teachers  in  Japan,  nearly  all  of  whom  have  fami- 
lies. Meanwhile,  191,968  Shinto  temples,  101,085  Shinto 
priests,  and  the  whole  influence  of  the  Government  en- 
courages this  state  religion,  of  which  the  Emperor  is  the 
visible  head.  There  are  72,039  Buddhist  temples,  and 
109,922  Buddhist  priests  and  13,922  students  proclaim 
that  faith,  while  pilgrims  to  the  thirty -three  famous 
Kwannons  of  the  empire  do  not  lessen  in  number.  A 
large  fraction  of  the  people  profess  no  religion  whatever, 
among  whom  are  many  of  the  younger  generation  of 
nobles,  who,  having  studied  and  lived  abroad,  have 
adopted  materialism,  atheism,  or  agnosticism,  like  other 
foreign  fashions.  When  an  American  devotee  of  theos- 
ophy  expounded  his  occult  science  in  a  round  oL"  temple 
addresses  he  aroused  a  polite  interest,  but  caused  no 
excitement  and  attracted  no  body  of  followers.  A  Uni- 
tarian agent  enjoyed  greatest  favor  among  tne  highest 

Q  a4< 


Jinrtkisha  Days  in  Japan 

circles  of  the  capital,  his  system  of  higher  philosophy 
appealing  strongly  to  those  cultivated  thinkers  and  men 
of  letters. 

The  common  people,  like  the  ignorant  of  other  races, 
do  not  at  all  comprehend  the  religion  they  do  profess, 
observing  its  forms  as  a  habit  or  a  matter  of  blind  con- 
vention, and  celebrating  its  events  with  ceremonies  and 
decorations,  festivals  and  anniversaries,  whose  signifi- 
cance they  cannot  explain.  Japanese  streets  suddenly 
blossom  out  with  flags  and  lanterns  at  every  door-way 
and  along  miles  of  eaves,  and  if  you  ask  a  shopkeeper 
what  this  rejoicing  means,  he  will  reply,  "  Wakarimasen" 
or  "  Shirimasen  "  (I  do  not  know).  Then  some  learned 
man  tells  you  that  it  is  the  anniversary  of  the  death  of 
Jimmu  Tenno,  or  the  autumn  festival,  when  the  first  rice 
of  the  garnered  crop  is  offered  to  the  gods  by  the  Em- 
peror in  the  palace  chapel,  by  the  priests  at  every  Shin- 
to shrine,  and  at  every  household  altar  in  pious  homes, 
or  some  other  traditional  occasion  kept  as  a  Govern- 
ment holiday..  Closing  the  Government  offices  on  Sun- 
day, and  making  that  a  day  of  rest,  was  a  matter  of 
practical  convenience  merely,  and  the  result  of  the 
adoption  of  a  uniform  calendar  with  the  rest  of  the 
world,  and  a  modern  military  establishment  on  foreign 
models. 

One  of  the  festivals  of  a  religious  character  which  is 
understood  by  the  people,  and  is,  perhaps,  the  most  re- 
markable of  all  Kioto's  great  summer  illuminations,  is 
that  of  the  Daimonji,  at  the  end  of  the  Bon  Matsuri,  or 
Festival  of  the  Dead.  According  to  Buddhist  belief,  the 
spirits  of  the  departed  return  to  earth  for  three  days  in 
mid-August,  visiting  their  families  and  earthly  haunts, 
and  flitting  back  to  their  graves  on  the  night  of  the  third 
day.  During  the  continuance  of  the  Bon  Matsuri,  lan- 
terns and  paper  strips  are  hung  in  front  of  those  houses 
in  which  a  death  has  occurred  during  the  year,  and  burn- 

342 


The  Monto  Temples  and  the  Daimonji 

ing  tapers  and  bowls  of  food  are  set  before  the  little 
household  shrines.  Alike  in  the  backs  of  shops,  in  the 
humblest  abodes,  and  in  villas  and  noble  yashikis,  lights, 
offerings,  and  fragrant  incense  welcome  back  the  dead. 
In  the  cemeteries  the  bamboo  sticks  at  each  gravestone 
are  daily  filled  with  fresh  flowers,  and  on  the  night  of 
their  return  the  spirits  are  guided  to  their  resting-places 
by  the  light  of  lanterns  and  oil-tapers  burning  through- 
out these  cities  of  their  silent  habitation.  This  beauti- 
ful custom,  sanctified  by  the  observance  of  many  centu- 
ries, is  tinged  with  little  sadness,  and  the  last  night  of 
the  Festival  of  the  Dead  is  the  great  Festival  of  Lan- 
terns, the  most  brilliant  of  the  long,  gay,  fantastic  Kioto 
summer. 

We  were  kindly  invited  by  a  Japanese  gentleman  to 
witness  the  illumination  from  the  upper  story  of  a  pa- 
goda-like school-house,  that  rose  high  above  all  the  roofs 
in  the  heart  of  the  city.  Two  hundred  children  were 
chirping  and  chattering  in  the  open-sided  class-rooms  of 
the  lower  floors,  all  eager  to  see  the  Daimonji,  the  great 
signal-fires  on  the  hills.  All  sat  on  their  heels  in  order- 
ly rows,  and  silently  bobbed  to  the  mats  at  sight  of  us, 
going  on  afterwards  with  their  merry  babble,  which  all 
through  the  summer  evening  floated  up  to  us  in  happy 
chorus. 

As  dusk  gave  way  to  dark,  we  beheld  a  glimmer  of 
light  like  a  waving  torch  on  the  side  of  the  mountain 
that  stands  like  a  tower  beyond  Maruyama.  Another 
and  another  flash  shone  out  against  the  dark  face  of 
Daimonji-yama's  long  slope,  until  the  flames  joined  and 
lines  of  fire  ran  upward,  touched,  crossed,  and  finally 
blazed  out  in  the  gigantic  written  character  Dai,  in  out- 
line not  unlike  a  capital  A.  Next  a  junk  appeared  in 
fiery  outlines  on  the  slope  north  of  the  city ;  another 
mystic  character  glowed  on  the  next  hill ;  and  to  the 
north-west  a  smaller  Dai  showed,  like  the  reflection  of 

»4S 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

the  first  huge  symbol.  Full. in  the  west  gleamed  a  torii, 
a  pillared  gate-way  of  fire.  From  every  house-top  and 
from  the  bridges  came  the  shouts  of  enthusiastic  spec- 
tators, and  the  children  in  the  rooms  below  us  twittered 
like  a  box  full  of  sparrows.  For  centuries  the  priests  of 
mountain  temples  have  taught  their  simple  parishioners 
to  lay  their  gathered  firewood  in  the  proper  lines,  and 
regular  trenches  mark  the  course  of  each  device.  The 
longer  lines  of  the  big  Dai  are  each  a  half-mile  in  length, 
and  the  five  miles'  distance  of  our  point  of  view  dwarfed 
them  to  perfect  proportions.  These  fiery  symbols  burned 
for  half  an  hour  before  they  began  to  waver,  and  long 
after  their  images  still  danced  and  burned  in  our  vision 
against  the  succeeding  blackness. 

Down  in  the  city  the  crowds  surged  through  the  lan- 
terned streets,  each  adding  the  illumination  of  his  hand- 
lantern  to  the  scene.  The  river-bed  was  all  recrossing 
lines  and  arches  of  lights,  and  myriad  points  of  uncov- 
ered flames  were  reflected  in  the  waters.  The  hill-sides 
twinkled  and  glowed  with  the  innumerable  torches  in 
the  cemeteries,  and  thus,  lighted  back  to  their  tombs  by 
all  the  city  and  the  hill-side,  the  Buddhist  spirits  rest 
until  the  next  midsummer  season  recalls  them  to  their 
joyous  Kioto. 


CHAPTER    XXV 
THE    PALACES    AND    CASTLE 

Kioto  remains  faithful  to  its  traditions,  and  yields 
but  slowly  to  the  foreign  fashions  which  absorb  Tokio. 
Tokio  has  nineteenth-century  political  troubles,  even  dem- 
agogues and  hare-brained  students,  that  unruly  young  ele- 
ment, the  soshi,  keep  it  in  a  state  of  agitation,  and  some- 
times appeal  to  the  old  two-handed  sword,  the  dagger, 

244 


The  Palaces  and  Castle 

and  the  cowardly  bomb.  But  Kioto,  devoted  to  its  old 
order,  maintains  the  reign  of  peace,  while  the  arts  flour- 
ish. 

For  the  thousand  years  during  which  this  ancient  Sa- 
ikio  remained  the  home  of  the  Emperor,  and  of  his  nom- 
inal subject,  the  Shogun,  its  western  half  was  crowded 
with  the  life  centering  about  the  two  rulers.  The  ancient 
Emperors  were  hidden  within  the  vast  palace  enclosure, 
the  centre  of  other  large  demesnes,  whose  yellow  walls 
were  marked  with  the  five  horizontal  white  lines  which 
indicate  imperial  possessions.  This  collection  of  palaces 
and  the  yashikis  of  the  kuges,  or  court  nobles,  were  then 
surrounded  by  one  exterior  wall  and  moat,  making  an 
immense  imperial  reservation  —  a  small  isolated  city. 
Within  a  few  years  this  exterior  wall  has  been  destroyed, 
streets  have  been  opened,  and  much  of  the  space  has 
been  turned  into  a  public  park.  The  imperial  palace 
buildings  cover  ten  acres  of  ground,  and  are  surrounded 
by  twenty-six  acres  of  ornamental  park.  In  each  of  the 
four  yellow  outer^walls  is  a  richly  roofed  and  gabled 
gate-way,  as  stately  as  a  temple,  the  ends  of  the  beams, 
the  ridges,  and  eaves  decorated  with  golden  chrysanthe- 
mum crests.  The  great  gate,  opened  only  for  the  Em- 
peror and  his  train,  and  through  whose  central  passage 
only  the  sacred  being  himself  may  be  borne,  faces  south, 
as  does  the  throne,  in  accordance  with  the  old  supersti- 
tions of  the  East.  The  evil  influences  always  threatening 
from  the  north-east  are  guarded  against  by  many  temples 
beyond  that  side  of  the  palace. 

In  these  days  of  departed  greatness  only  the  Daidokoro 
Mon  (the  august  kitchen  gate),  a  fine  gabled  structure  in 
the  western  wall,  is  used.  After  the  visitor  presents  the 
elaborate  ofiicial  permit,  obtained  by  his  legation  from 
the  Imperial  Household  Department  of  Tokio,  and 
stamped  after  a  personal  inspection  of  the  holder  by  the 
Kioto  bureau  of  that  department,  there  is  much  running 

«45 


Jinrtkisha  Days  in   'Japan 

to  and  fro  of  ancient  officials,  much  restamping  and  re- 
cording, before  he  is  led  through  the  precinct  by  an  at- 
tendant. Even  with  this  guarantee,  the  severe  and  state- 
ly old  guardians,  in  their  ancient  dress  and  tonsure,  seem 
to  look  on  the  intruder  with  suspicion. 

The  Japanese  gosho  is  not  exactly  translated  by  the 
word  "  palace,"  and  is  merely  a  greater  yashiki,  or  spread- 
out  house,  constituting  the  sovereign's  residence.  This 
gosho  consists  of  so  many  separate  roofed,  one-story 
wooden  buildings  as  to  make  a  small  village.  Each  room, 
or  suite  of  rooms,  occupies  a  distinct  building,  its  outside 
gallery  or  veranda  forming  the  corridor,  and  its  sliding 
screens  the  inner  walls.  Each  building  has  the  great 
sweeping  roof  of  a  temple,  the  belief  in  the  divinity  of 
the  Emperor,  and  his  headship  of  the  Shinto  faith,  re- 
quiring that  his  actual  dwelling  should  be  a  temple,  rigid- 
ly simple  as  a  Shinto  shrine,  with  thatched  roof  and  un- 
painted  woods.  These  clustered  houses  are  the  survival 
of  the  old  nomad  camps  of  Asia,  as  the  upward  curving 
gables  of  the  roof  are  a  permanent  form  of  their  sagging 
tent-tops.  The  palace  has  suffered  from  many  fires,  the 
last  occurring  in  1854,  but  each  rebuilding  has  followed 
the  original  models,  and  the  gosho  looks  just  as  it  did 
centuries  ago.  The  same  straw  mats,  open  charcoal  bra- 
ziers, and  loose  saucers  of  oil  in  paper  lamp-frames,  in- 
viting a  conflagration  there  as  in  the  humblest  Japanese 
home. 

The  walk  around  the  outer  galleries  and  connecting 
corridors  takes  half  an  hour,  and  one  must  go  stocking- 
footed,  or  in  the  curious  slippers  furnished  by  the  guar- 
dians. In  summer  the  recessed  and  sunless  apartments 
are  cool  and  dim,  but  winter  makes  them  bitterly  cold 
and  forlorn.  Except  for  two  thrones,  there  is  nothing 
to  be  called  furniture  in  the  palace.  The  silk-bordered 
mats  of  the  floor,  the  paintings  on  the  sliding  screens, 
the  fine  metal  plates  on  all  the  wood-work,  the  irregular- 

346 


The  Palaces  and  Castle 

ly-shelved  recesses,  quaint  windows,  curious  lattices,  and 
richly-panelled  ceilings  constitute  its  adornments.  All 
the  wonderful  kakemonos,  vases,  and  curios  were  stored 
in  godowns  when  the  Emperor  left  Kioto,  and  the  seals 
have  not  since  been  broken.  On  the  screens  in  the  pri- 
vate apartments  are  many  autograph  poems,  written  by 
court  poets  or  imperial  improvisators.  The  tea-rooms 
and  the  garden  tea-houses  show  how  important  were  the 
long-drawn  ceremonies  of  cha  no  yu  in  those  leisurely 
days  of  the  past. 

The  courts  surrounding  the  state  apartments  are  sand- 
ed quadrangles,  their  surfaces  scratched  over  in  fine  pat- 
terns by  the  gardeners'  bamboo  rakes  for  the  easy 
detection  of  strange  footprints.  In  the  court-yard  before 
the  old  audience  hall  a  cherry-tree,  a  wild  orange-tree, 
and  a  sacred  bamboo,  all  emblematic,  grow  at  either 
side  of  the  broad  steps.  In  the  middle  of  the  wide, 
temple- like  apartment  commanding  this  court  stands 
the  sacred  white  throne  of  past  centuries,  a  square  tent 
or  canopy  of  white  silk,  with  rich  red  borders  at  the 
edges  of  the  overlapping  curtains.  Two  antique  Chinese 
dogs  guard  the  throne.  On  New-year's  Day,  and  at  rare 
intervals  when  the  Emperor  gave  audience  to  his  vassal 
jailer,  the  Shogun,  he  sat  on  a  silk  cushion  within  the 
closed  tent,  and  only  his  voice  was  heard,  speaking  in 
the  quavering,  long-drawn  tones  still  used  by  the  actors 
in  the  No  dance.  The  imperial  princes  stood  at  either 
side  of  the  throne,  the  kugd  and  officials  of  the  highest 
rank  knelt  on  the  steps,  and  the  lowest  officials  in  at- 
tendance, the  jige  or  "  down  to  the  earth "  subjects, 
prostrated  themselves  on  the  sands  of  the  court,  while 
the  mournful  and  muffled  tones  of  the  sacred  voice 
sounded. 

When  the  Emperor  gave  his  first  audiences  after  the 
Restoration,  in  1868,  he  occupied  a  newer  throne  in  the 
Shishinden,  a  large  audience  hall  with  a  lofty  ceiling 


yinrikisha  Days  in   Japan 

supported  by  round  wooden  columns.  On  the  lower 
part  of  the  rear  wall  are  some  very  old  screens  painted 
with  groups  of  Chinese  and  Korean  sages.  The  floor  is 
of  polished  cedar,  and  the  throne  is  like  that  of  his  an- 
cestors, but  with  the  curtains  rolled  up  from  the  front 
and  two  sides.  It  stands  on  a  dais,  guarded  by  the  Chi- 
nese dogs  brought  as  trophies  from  Korea,  and  holds 


THE   THRONE   OF    1868. 


within  it  a  simple  lacquered  chair,  with  lacquer  stands 
for  the  sacred  sword  and  seal.  After  those  audiences  of 
1868  the  Emperor  travelled  to  Tokio  in  a  gold-lacquered 
norimon,  or  closed  litter,  guarded  by  a  train  clad  in  the 

248 


The  Palaces  and  Castle 

picturesque  dress  and  armor  of  centuries  before,  and 
equipped  with  curious  old  weapons.  He,  himself,  wore 
voluminous  silk  robes  and  a  stiff  lacquer  hat,  and  the 
faithful  kuges  were  attired  in  gorgeous  brocades  and  silks. 
When  the  Emperor  and  court  returned  to  Kioto  in  1878, 
to  open  the  railway  to  the  seaport  of  Hiogo-Kobe,  he  was 
dressed  like  a  European  sovereign,  alighted  publicly 
from  his  railway  car,  and  drove  to  the  palace  in  a  smart 
brougham,  escorted  by  troops  with  western  uniforms  and 
weapons. 

The  Shiro,  or  Nijo  castle,  half  a  mile  south  of  the  pal- 
ace, where  the  Shoguns  flaunted  their  wealth  and  power, 
is  a  splendid  relic  of  feudal  days.  The  broad  moat, 
drawbridge,  strong  walls,  and  tower-topped  gate-ways 
and  angles  date  from  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
The  great  gate-way  inside  the  first  wall  is  a  mass  of  elab- 
orate metal  ornament,  ftom  the  sockets  of  the  corner 
posts  to  the  ridge-pole,  but  the  many  trefoils  of  the  To- 
kugawas  have  been  everywhere  covered  by  the  imperial 
chrysanthemum.  All  the  rooms,  but  especially  the  two 
splendid  audience- chambers,  with  a  broad  dais  before 
each  tokonoma,  are  marvels  of  decorative  art,  rich  in 
gilded  screens,  with  exquisite  paintings  and  fine  metal 
work,  wonderfully  carved  ramma,  and  sunken  ceiling 
panels,  ornamented  with  flower  circles,  crests,  and  geo- 
metric designs.  But,  alas !  a  hideous  Brussels  carpet,  a 
round  centre-table,  and  a  ring  of  straight-backed  chairs 
have  crowded  their  vulgar  way  into  these  stately  rooms, 
as  into  every  government  building  and  office,  large  shop, 
and  tea-house  in  Kioto. 

The  Shoguns  had  the  Kinkakuji,  the  Ginkakuji,  and 

other  suburban  villas  to  which  they  might  resort,  and  in 

which  many  of  them  ended  their  days  as  abbots  and 

priests.     The  Emperors  had  only  the  exquisite  Shuga- 

kuin  gardens  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Hiyeizan  for  their 

pleasurings,  until  the   Restoration  gave  all  such  rebel 

349 


Jinrikisha  Days  in   Japan 

property  to  the  crown.  The  Kinkakuji  (the  gold -cov- 
ered pavilion)  and  the  Ginkakuji  (the  silver -covered 
pavilion)  stand  at  opposite  sides  of  the  city,  each  sur- 
rounded with  landscape-gardens,  from  which  nearly  all 
Japanese  gardens  are  copied.  Both  are  as  old  as  the 
Ashikaga  Shoguns,  and  both  are  now  monasteries.  The 
Kinkakuji  is  the  larger,  and  was  even  more  splendid  be- 
fore it  was  despoiled  of  so  many  rare  and  historic  stones 
and  garden  ornaments,  but  the  place  is  still  a  paradise. 
Yoshimitsu,  third  of  the  Ashikaga  Shoguns,  built  the 
Kinkakuji,  and  thither  the  great  Ashikaga  retired  to  end 
his  life.  This  refuge  figures  in  the  many  novels  of  the 
time  of  the  Ashikagas,  when  the  War  of  the  Chrysanthe- 
mums, the  Japanese  War  of  the  Roses,  raged,  and 
the  Emperors  with  the  kuges  suffered  actual  want  and 
privation.  The  memory  of  this  third  Ashikaga  is  ab- 
horred, because  he  paid  tribute  to  China  and  accepted 
from  that  country  in  return  the  title  of  "  King  of  Japan ;" 
but  he  so  fostered  luxury  and  art  that  some  of  his  other 
sins  are  forgiven  him.  The  pretty  little  palace  at  the 
lake's  edge,  with  its  golden  roof  and  lacquered  walls, 
has  successfully  withstood  the  centuries,  and  is  still  in- 
tact. In  the  monastery  buildings  near  the  gate-way  are 
shown  many  wonderful  kakemonos  and  screens,  and  in 
one  court  is  a  pine-tree  trained  in  the  shape  of  a  junk, 
hull,  mast,  and  sail  perfectly  re,produeed  in  the  feathery, 
living  green  needles  of  the  tree.  It  is  most  interesting 
to  see  how  the  patient  gardeners  have  bent,  interlaced, 
tied,  weighted  down,  and  propped  up  the  limbs  and  twigs 
•to  produce  this  model,  with  the  slow  labor  of  a  century. 
To  the  Ginkakuji  retired  the  dignified  Yoshimasa, 
eighth  of  the  Ashikaga  Shoguns,  to  found  a  monastery 
and  to  meditate,  until  with  Murata  Shinkio,  the  priest, 
and  Soami,  the  painter,  he  evolved  the  minute  and  elab- 
orate ceremonies  of  cha  no  yu.  The  weather-beaten 
boards  and  finely  thatched  roof  of  the  first  ceremonial 

3^0 


The  Palaces  and  Castle 

tea-house  in  Japan,  built  before  Columbus  set  sail  for 
the  Zipangu  of  Marco  Polo,  are  greatly  revered  by  Jap- 
anese visitors.  Beautiful  is  the  way  to  the  Ginkakuji,  past 
the  high  walls  and  gate-ways  of  monasteries,  past  the 
towering  gates  of  countless  temples,  up  their  long  shad- 
ed avenues,  and  on  by  bamboo  groves  and  terraced  rice 
fields.  You  buy  wooden  admission  tickets  for  ten  sen, 
which  you  give  to  a  little  acolyte,  who  opens  the  inner 
gate-way.  This  chisai  bonze  san  (small  priest)  might  have 
been  twelve  years  old,  but  looked  not  more  than  five 
when  I  first  knew  him,  and  from  shaven  head  to  san- 
daled foot  he  was  a  Buddhist  priest  in  miniature.  This 
Shinkaku,  leading  the  way  to  the  lake  with  solemn 
countenance  and  hands  primly  clasped  before  him,  sud- 
denly broke  forth  into  a  wild,  sing-song  chant,  which 
recited  the  names  of  the  donors  of  the  rocks  and  lan- 
terns to  the  great  Ashikaga  Yoshimasa.  He  made  us 
take  off  our  shoes  and  creep  up  the  steep  and  ancient 
stair-way  of  the  Ginkakuji  to  see  a  blackened  and  vener- 
able image  of  Amida.  Morning,  noon,  and  night  service 
is  said  before  the  altar  in  the  little  old  temple  by  the 
lake,  and  this  small  priest  burns  incense,  passes  the  sa- 
cred books,  and  assists  the  wrinkled  and  aged  priests  in 
the  observances  of  the  Zen  sect  of  Buddhists.  Back  of 
the  monastery  buildings  is  a  lotus  pond,  where  the  great 
pink  flower -cups  fill  the  air  with  perfume,  and  every 
morning  are  set  fresh  before  Buddha's  shrine. 

Going  westward  from  Kioto  the  traveller  crosses  rice 
fields,  skirts  a  long  bamboo  hedge,  and  comes  to  the 
summer  palace  of  Katsura  no  Miya,  a  relic  of  the  Tai- 
ko's  days.  An  aunt  of  the  Emperor  occupied  it  until 
her  recent  decease,  and  to  that  is  probably  due  its  per- 
fect preservation.  An  ancient  samurai  with  shaven  crown 
and  silken  garments  receives,  with  a  dozen  bows,  the 
handful  of  official  papers  that  constitute  a  permit  to  visit 
the  imperial  demesne.     Dropping  his  shoes  at  the  steps, 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

the  visitor  wanders  through  a  labyrinth  of  little  rooms, 
each  exquisite,  simple,  and  charming,  with  its  golden 
screens  and  gold-flecked  ceilings.  The  irregularly  shelved 
recesses,  the  chigai  dana  of  each  room,  the  ramma,  the 
lattices  and  windows,  are  perfect  models  of  Japanese  taste 
and  art ;  and  the  Taiko's  crest  is  wrought  in  silver,  gold, 
and  bronze  on  all  tlie  mountings,  and  is  painted  and 
carved  everywhere.  The  open  rooms  look  upon  a  lovely 
garden-,  and  paths  of  flat-topped  stones  lead  through  the 
tiny  wilderness  of  lake,  forest,  thicket,  and  stream ;  over 
old  stone  bridges,  stained  and  lichen-covered,  to  pictu- 
resque tea-houses  and  pavilions,  overhanging  the  lake. 
Stone  Buddhas  and  stone  pagodas  stand  in  shadowy 
places,  and  stone  lanterns  under  dwarf  pine-trees  are  re- 
flected in  the  curve  of  every  tiny  bay.  It  is  an  ideal  Jap- 
anese garden,  with  the  dew  of  a  midsummer  morning  on 
all  the  spider  webs,  and  only  the  low  note  of  the  grass- 
hoppers to  break  the  stillness. 

Although  all  tourists  spend  a  day  in  shooting  the  rapids 
of  the  Oigawa,  it  seems  to  me  a  waste  of  precious  Kioto 
time  and  a  performance  out  of  harmony  with  the  spirit  of 
the  place,  although  in  May  the  blooming  azaleas  cause 
that  wild  and  narrow  canon  to  blaze  with  color.  The 
flat-bottomed  boats  dart  through  the  seven-mile  gorge 
and  dash  from  one  peril  of  shipwreck  to  another,  just 
saved  by  a  dextrous  touch  of  the  boatmen's  poles,  which 
fit  into  holes  in  the  rocks  that  they  themselves  have  worn. 
The  flooring  of  the  boats  is  so  thin  as  to  rise  and  fall  with 
the  pressure  of  the  water,  in  a  way  that  seems  at  first 
most  alarming.  The  passage  ends  at  Arashiyama,  a  steep 
hill  clothed  with  pine,  maple,  and  cherry-trees,  which  in 
cherry-blossom  time,  or  in  autumn,  is  the  great  resort  of 
all  Kioto,  whose  pleasurings  there  form  the  theme  of  half 
the  geisha's  songs  and  the  accompanying  dances.  From 
the  tea-house  on  the  opposite  bank  the  abrupt  mount- 
ain-side shows  a  mat  of  densest  foliage.     A  torii  at  the 

as* 


The  Palaces  and  Castle 

river's  edge,  stone  steps  and  lines  of  lanterns  lead  to  a 
temple  on  the  summit,  and  down  through  the  forest  float 
the  soft,  slow  beats  of  a  temple-bell.  The  tea-house  is 
famous  for  its  fish-dinners,  where  tai,  fresh  from  the  cool, 
green  river,  are  cooked  as  only  the  Japanese  can  cook 
them,  and  the  lily  bulbs,  rice  sandwiches,  omelettes,  and 
sponge-cake  are  so  good  that  the  place  is  always  crowded. 

Katsura  no  Miya  is  just  below  Arashiyama,  and  after 
one  morning  spent  in  the  little  palace,  with  its  restful 
shade  and  stillness,  our  half-naked  coolies  ran  with  us 
through  the  glaring  sunlight  to  the  tea-house  beside  the 
cool  waters  of  the  Oigawa.  They  barely  waited  for  us 
to  step  out  of  the  jinrikishas  before  they  plunged,  laugh- 
ing and  frolicking,  down  the  bank  and  leaped  into  the 
river,  splashing  and  swimftiing  there  like  so  many  frogs. 
They  had  run  ten  miles  that  morning,  half  of  the  way 
under  a  baking  sun,  the  perspiration  streaming  from 
their  bodies,  and  they  plunged  into  the  river  as  they 
were,  taking  off  their  one  cotton  garment  and  washing 
it,  while  they  cooled  themselves  in  the  rushing  waters. 
Then,  lying  down  quite  uncovered  in  their  own  quarters 
of  the  tea-house,  they  ate  watermelon  and  cucumber, 
drank  tea  and  smoked,  until  they  dropped  asleep  in  the 
scorching  noonday  of  a  cholera  summer.  In  the  late 
afternoon,  when  it  was  time  to  begin  the  long  ride  back 
to  Maruyama,  they  limped  out  to  us,  lame  and  stiff  in 
every  joint  and  muscle,  coughing  and  croaking  like  ra- 
vens. We  felt  that  they  must  die  in  the  shafts,  but  ex- 
ercise soon  relieved  the  cramped  and  stiffened  limbs, 
and  they  trotted  on  as  nimbly  as  ever  over  the  hills  to 
Kioto. 

The  coolie  and  his  ways  are  matters  of  much  interest 
to  foreigners,  but  after  a  time  one  ceases  to  be  amazed 
at  their  endurance  or  their  recklessness.  After  the  most 
violent  exercise,  ninsoku,  the  coolie,  will  take  off  his  one 
superfluous  garment  and  sit  in  summer  ease  in  his  dec- 

«3 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  "Japan 

orated  skin.  Back,  breast,  arms,  and  thighs  are  often 
covered  with  elaborate  tattooed  pictures  in  blue,  red,  and 
black  on  the  raw -umber  ground.  His  philosophy  of 
dress  is  a  simple  one.  When  the  weather  is  too  hot  to 
wear  clothes  they  are  left  off,  and  a  wisp  of  straw  for  the 
feet,  a  loin-cloth,  and  a  huge  flat  hat,  a  yard  in  diameter, 
weighing  less  than  a  feather,  are  enough  for  him.  When 
there  is  no  money  to  buy  raiment  he  tattoos  himself  with 
gorgeous  pictures,  which  he  would  never  hide  were  there 
not  watchful  policemen  and  Government  laws  to  compel 
him  into  some  scanty  covering. 

The  diet  of  these  coolies  seems  wholly  insufficient  for 
the  tremendous  labor  they  perform — rice,  pickled  fish, 
fermented  radish,  and  green  tea  affording  the  thin  nutri- 
ment of  working-days.  Yet  the  most  splendid  specimens 
of  physical  health  are  reared  and  kept  in  prize-fighting 
condition  on  what  would  reduce  a  foreigner  to  invalid- 
ism in  a  week.  I  remember  that  while  resting  one  hot 
morning  under  Shinniodo's  great  gate -way,  my  coolie, 
who  by  an  unusually  early  start  had  been  interrupted 
in  his  breakfast  of  one  green  apple,  asked  for  some  tea- 
money.  I  watched  the  hungry  pony  while  he  treated  his 
companions  to  a  substantial  repast  of  tea  and  water- 
melon. Strengthened  and  recuperated,  he  came  back, 
shouldered  camera  and  tripod,  and  as  he  walked  down 
the  hot  flagging,  complacently  picked  his  teeth  with 
the  sharp  point  of  one  tripod  stick  —  a  toothpick  four 
feet  long ! 


Kioto  Silk  Industry 


CHAPTER    XXVI 
KIOTO    SILK    INDUSTRY 

Kioto  remains  the  home  of  the  arts,  although  no  lon- 
ger the  seat  of  government.  For  centuries  it  ministered 
to  the  luxury  of  the  two  courts,  which  gathered  together 
and  encouraged  hosts  of  artists  and  artisans,  whose  de- 
scendants live  and  work  in  the  old  home.  Kioto  silks 
and  crapes,  Kioto  fans,  porcelains,  bronzes,  lacquer,  carv- 
ings, and  embroideries  preserve  their  quality  and  fame, 
and  are  dearer  and  better  than  any  other. 

Silk  is  the  most  valuable  article  of  export  which  Japan 
produces,  and  raw  silk  to  the  value  of  thirty  millions  of 
yens  goes  annually  to  foreign  consumers,  while  the  home 
market  buys  nearly  seven  millions  of  yens'  worth  of  man- 
ufactured fabrics.  The  Nishijin  quarter  of  Kioto  and 
the  Josho  district,  north-west  of  Tokio,  are  the  great  silk 
centres  of  Japan,  and  any  silk  merchant,  fingering  a  crape 
gown,  will  tell  instantly  which  of  the  rival  districts  pro- 
duced it.  Recently  Kofu,  west  of  Tokio,  and  Hachioji, 
twenty  miles  south,  have  become  important  centres  of 
manufacture  as  well.  The  silk  market  has  its  fluctua- 
tions, its  panics,  and  its  daily  quotations  by  cable ;  but 
raw  silk  has  so  inherent  a  value  that  it  is  a  good  collat- 
eral security  at  any  bank,  and  the  silk-broker  is  as  well 
established  and  important  a  personage  in  the  mercantile 
world  of  the  Orient  as  the  stock-broker  in  the  Occident. 
Next  to  specie  or  gems,  silk  is  the  most  valuable  of  com- 
modities in  proportion  to  its  bulk,  the  cargo  of  a  single 
steamer  often  representing  a  value  of  two  million  dollars 

>S5 


yinrtkisha  Days  in   yapan 

in  gold.  The  United  States  is  the  greatest  consumer  of 
Japan's  raw  silk.  In  1875  fifty-three  bales  only  of  raw 
silk  and  cocoons  were  shipped  to  America.  Ih  1878 
there  were  two  thousand  three  hundred  and  thirty-six 
bales,  in  1887  some  sixteen  thousand  eight  hundred  and 
sixty-four  bales,  and  in  1901  the  export  of  raw  silk  to 
America  amounted  to  forty  seven  thousand  six  hundred 
and  sixty-two  bales.  Our  share  of  the  raw  silk  is  nearly 
all  consigned  to  Paterson,  N.  J.  With  the  opening  of  this 
great  foreign  trade,  silk  is  dearer  to  the  Japanese  con- 
sumer than  twenty  years  ago  ;  and  while  it  still  furnishes 
the  ceremonial  dress,  and  is  the  choice  of  the  rich,  cotton 
and,  of  late,  wool  have  taken  its  place  to  a  great  extent. 
Everywhere  the  rearing  of  the  worms  goes  on.  The 
silk  districts  and  villages  are  always  thriving,  prosper- 
ous, and  tidily  kept,  forming  peaceful  and  contented 
communities.  Each  house  becomes  both  a  nursery  for 
the  worms  and  a  home  factory,  where  every  member  of 
the  family  engages  in  the  work.  Wages  in  silk  districts 
range  from  eight  to  twenty  cents,  in  United  States  gold, 
for  a  day's  work  of  eighteen  hours,  the  higher  price  be- 
ing paid  to  the  most  expert  and  experienced  only.  The 
houses  are  all  spacious,  kept  most  exquisitely  clean,  ven- 
tilated, and  held  to  an  even  temperature.  Sheets  of  pa- 
per coated  with  eggs,  and  looking  like  so  much  sand- 
paper, will  in  a  few  days  fill  the  waiting  trays  with  tiny 
white  worms.  The  mulberry-leaves  have  to  be  chopped 
as  fine  as  dust  for  these  new-comers,  which  are  daily 
lifted  to  fresh  trays  by  means  of  chopsticks,  the  fingers 
being  too  rough  and  strong  for  such  delicate  handlings. 
For  a  week  at  a  time  the  tiny  gluttons  crawl  and  eat, 
then  take  a  day  and  night  of  sleep,  maintaining  this  rou- 
tine for  five  weeks,  when,  having  grown  large  enough, 
they  begin  to  wind  themselves  up  in  cocoons.  Then  the 
cauldron  of  boiling  water  and  the  whirling  reel  change 

the  yellow  balls  into  great  skeins  of  shining  silk,  ready 

256 


Kioto  Silk  Industry 

to  be  twisted,  tied,  and  woven  either  at  home  or  across 
the  seas.  Compressed  into  bales  of  a  picul's  weight,  or 
133^^  pounds,  the  raw  silk  finds  its  way  to  market,  or, 
woven  in  hand  looms  in  the  usual  thirteen-inch  Japanese 
widths,  or  in  wider  measures  for  the  foreign  trade,  it  is 
again  sold  by  weight,  the  mome  being  the  unit.  One 
hundred  and  twenty  mome  are  equal  to  one  pound. 
Twenty-five  yards  of  fine-  white  handkerchief-silk  weigh 
from  150  to  200  mome,  and  100  momd  of  such  silk 
varies  in  price  from  six  to  seven  dollars,  gold. 

Steam-looms  are  fast  supplanting  the  old  hand-ma- 
chines in  Nishijin  and  Josho.  The  Government  sent 
men  to  study  the  methods  in  use  at  Lyons  and  bring 
back  machinery,  and  now^there  are  filatures  and  facto- 
ries in  all  the  silk  districts.  Private  corporations  are 
following  the  Government  example.  At  the  Kwangioba 
no  Shokoba  the  first  exhibition  of  foreign  machines,  with 
instruction  in  their  use,  was  given.  To-day  the  lively 
clatter  of  the  Jacquard  loom  is  heard  above  the  slow, 
droning  noise  of  the  hand-loom  behind  Nishijin's  miles 
of  blank  walls.  Slowly  the  weavers  are  abandoning  the 
rude  loom,  which  was  probably  in  use,  like  gunpowder, 
at  an  age  when  Europeans  clothed  themselves  in  skins 
and  lived  in  caves  ;  and  the  singing  draw-boy  is  descend- 
ing from  his  high  perch,  where  he  has  so  long  been  lift- 
ing the  alternating  handful  of  threads  that  make  the 
pattern. 

In  a  tour  of  the  Nishijin  factories,  one  scorching  Au- 
gust day,  we  saw  many  of  these  primitive  hand-looms, 
with  half-clad  weavers  tossing  the  shuttles  of  silk  and 
gold  thread,  their  skin  shining  with  the  heat  like  polished 
bronze,  and  marked  all  over  with  the  scars  of  moxa 
cones.  Everywhere  were  gathered  books  upon  books 
filled  with  samples  of  superb  brocades,  many  of  them 
more  than  a  century  old.  Everywhere  we  were  regaled 
with  sweets  and  thimble-cups  of  lukewarm  amber  tea, 

»  »S7 


yinrzkisha  Days  in  Japan 

that  seemed  harmless  as  water,  but  murdered  sleep. 
Everywhere  we  found  a  new  garden  more  enchanting 
than  the  last,  and  everywhere  the  way  in  which  work- 
room and  kitchen,  living-room  and  sales-room  were  com- 
bined ;  women,  children,  family,  workmen,  and  servants 
were  ruled  over  by  the  master  of  the  home  and  factory, 
offered  a  curious  study  in  political  economy  and  patri- 
archal government. 

Until  the  Emperor,  and  finally  the  Empress  and  court 
ladies  abandoned  the  national  dress,  the  court-weaver  of 
brocade  remained  a  considerable  personage,  for  he  and 
his  ancestors  had  been  both  tailors  and  dress-makers  to 
those  august  personages.  We  visited  the  beautiful  gar- 
den and  lantern-hung  verandas  of  this  artistic  dictator, 
and  sipped  tea,  fanned  the  while  by  attentive  maids, 
while  the  stout,  dignified,  and  prosperous  head  of  the  an- 
cient house  and  our  Japanese  official  escort  conversed. 
Afterwards  we  were  shown  the  books  of  brocade  and 
silks  manufactured  for  the  imperial  family  and  court. 
The  gorgeousness  of  some  of  these,  especially  the  blaz- 
ing red  brocade,  stiff  with  pure  gold  thread  and  covered 
with  huge  designs  of  the  imperial  chrysanthemum,  or 
the  Paulownia  crest  of  the  Emperor's  family,  fairly  daz- 
zled us.  We  saw  the  pattern  of  the  old  Emperors'  cere- 
monial robes,  and  patterns  designed  by  past  Empresses 
for  their  regal  attire.  Several  of  these  were  of  a  pure 
golden  yellow,  woven  with  many  gold  threads ;  one  de- 
sign half  covered  with  fine,  skeleton  bamboos  on  the 
shimmering,  sunshiny  ground.  The  splendid  fabrics  that 
bear  the  imperial  crest  may  be  woven  only  for  the  reign- 
ing family,  and  their  furniture  coverings,  draperies,  and 
carriage -linings  are  as  carefully  made  and  guarded  as 
bank-note  paper.  Squares  of  thickest  red  silk,  wrought 
with  a  single  gold  chrysanthemum,  are  woven  for  the 
Foreign  Office,  as  cases  for  state  papers  and  envoys' 
credentials.    Rolls  of  the  finest  white  silk  were  ready  to 

258 


Kioto  Silk  Industry 

be  made  into  undergarments  for  the  Emperor,  who,  nev- 
er wearing  such  articles  twice,  obliges  his  tailor  to  keep 
a  large  supply  ready ;  and  these  garments  that  have  once 
touched  the  sacred  person  are  highly  treasured  by  loyal 
subjects. 

The  weaver  exhibited  flaming  silks  covered  with  huge 
peonies,  or  fine  maple-leaves,  or  circles  of  writhing  dra- 
gons, which  the  outside  million  may  buy  if  they  choose, 
but  not  a  sixteen-petalled  chrysanthemum  are  they  priv- 
ileged to  obtain  from  him  in  any  way.  In  discussing  the 
changeableness  of  the  American  taste,  Kobayashi  and 
his  staff  wondered  that  the  mass  of  our  people  did  not 
care  for  silks  that  would  wear  forever,  rather  than  for 
the  cheap  fancies  of  the^moment.  The  Japanese  cling 
to  the  really  good  things  that  have  stood  the  test  of  a 
century's  taste,  and  Japanese  ladies  had  a  pride  in  wear- 
ing the  brocade  that  had  been  theirs  for  a  lifetime  and 
their  mothers'  before  them.  In  noble  families  inherited 
ceremonial  dresses  are  as  highly  treasured  as  the  plate 
and  jewels  of  European  families,  though  they  are  now 
seldom  worn.  Rolls  of  such  silks  and  brocades  were 
often  presented  by  Emperor  and  Shogun  to  their  court- 
iers, and  the  common  saying,  "  He  wears  rags,  but  his 
heart  is  brocade,"  attests  the  esteem  in  which  these  ni- 
shikis  (brocades)  were  held  in  olden  times,  and  those 
yesso  nishikis,  with  their,  reverse  a  loose  rainbow  of  woof 
threads,  are  far  removed  from  the  thin,  flat,  papery,  char- 
acterless stuffs  known  as  Japanese  brocades  in  the  cheap 
foreign  trade. 

A  heavy  silk  tapestry,  peculiar  to  Japan,  although  sug- 
gested by  Chinese  models,  is  best  woven  now  at  the 
Dotemachi  Gakko,  an  industrial  school  for  girls,  main- 
tained by  the  Government.  The  art  had  nearly  died 
out  when  the  aged  tapestry-weaver  was  brought  to  the 
school  and  given  a  class  of  the  most  promising  pupils. 
The  fabric  is  woven  on  hand -frames,  the  design  being 

»59 


Jinriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

sketched  on  the  white  warp  threads,  wrought  in  with 
shuttles  or  bobbins,  and  the  threads  pressed  down  with  a 
comb.  Each  piece  of  the  design  is  made  by  itself,  and 
connected  by  occasional  cross  threads,  or  brides,  as  in 
lace.  The  fabric  is  not  dear,  considering  its  superior 
beauty  and  durability,  as  compared  to  the  moth-inviting 
tapestries  of  the  Gobelins  and  Beauvais,  and  conven- 
tional and  classic  designs  are  still  followed,  the  old  dyes 
used,  and  gold  thread  lavishly  interwoven. 

The  gold  thread  employed  in  weaving  brocades  and 
tapestries  is  either  a  fine  thread  wound  with  gold  foil, 
a  strip  of  tough  paper  coated  with  gold-dust,  or  threads 
wound  with  common  gold -paper.  The  fineness  and 
quality  of  the  gold  affect  the  cost  of  any  material  into 
which  it  enters,  and  in  ordering  a  fabric  or  a  piece  of 
embroidery  one  stipulates  closely  as  to  the  gold-thread 
employed.  The  fine  gold -wires  of  Russian  brocades 
are  very  rarely  used,  because  of  their  greater  cost.  The 
manufacture  of  gold  thread  is  an  open  secret,  and  wom- 
en are  often  seen  at  work  in  the  streets,  stretching  and 
twisting  the  fine  golden  filaments  in  lengths  of  twenty 
and  thirty  feet. 

The  old  dyers  were  as  much  masters  of  their  craft  as 
the  old  weavers ;  and  in  trying  to  match  the  colors  in  a 
piece  of  yesso  nishiki,  I  once  went  the  round  of  Paris 
shops  and  dress-makers'  establishments  in  vain.  Noth- 
ing they  afforded  would  harmonize  with  the  soft  tones 
of  the  old  dyes.  A  distinguished  American  connoisseur, 
wishing  to  duplicate  a  cord  and  tassel  from  one  of  his 
old  lacquer  boxes,  took  it  to  a  Parisian  cord-maker.  The 
whole  staff  looked  at  it,  and  the  proprietor  asked  per- 
mission to  unravel  a  bit,  to  decipher  the  twist  and  obtain 
some  long  threads  for  the  dyer.  But  with  months  of 
time  allowed  him,  he  could  not  reproduce  the  colors  nor 
braid  a  cord  like  the  original,  nor  even  retwist  the  Jap- 
anese cord  he  had  unravelled. 

360 


Kioto  Silk  Industry 

Velvet-weaving  is  one  of  the  old  arts,  but  it  was  ac- 
'complished  by  the  most  primitive  and  laborious  means, 
and  the  fabrics,  dull  and  inferior  to  foreign  factory 
velvets,  do  not  rank  among  the  more  characteristic  pro- 
ductions of  Japanese  looms.  Kioto's  painted  velvets  are 
unique,  however,  and  charming  effects  are  obtained  by 
painting  softly-toned  designs  on  the  velvet  as  it  comes 
from  the  loom,  with  all  the  fine  wires  still  held  in  the 
looped  threads.  The  painted  parts  are  afterwards  cut, 
and  stand  in  softly-shaded  relief  upon  the  uncut  ground- 
work. 

The  crape  guild  of  Kioto  is  as  large,  and  commercially 
as  important,  in  this  day,  as  the  brocade  guild,  whose 
members  rank  first  among  manufacturers.  All  crape  is 
woven  in  tans,  or  lengths  6f  sixty  Japanese  shaku,  two  and 
a  half  shaku  being  equal  to  an  English  yard.  On  the  loom 
this  material  is  a  thin,  lustrous  fabric,  hardly  heavier 
than  the  gauze  on  which  kakemonos  and  fan  mounts  are 
painted.  It  is  so  smooth  and  glossy  that  one  cannot 
discover  the  smoother  warp  and  twisted  woof  threads, 
alternately  tight  and  loose,  which  give  it  its  crinkly  sur- 
face. When  finished,  the  web  is  plunged  into  a  vat  of 
boiling  water,  which  shrinks  the  threads  and  ensures  the 
wrinkled  and  lustreless  surface.  Once  dried  the  tans 
are  tied  like  skeins,  and  lying  in  heaps,  look  like  so  much 
unbleached  muslin.  Crape  must  be  dyed  in  the  piece, 
and  stretched,  while  damp,  by  bracing  it  across  with  in- 
numerable strips  of  bowed  bamboo.  In  the  bath  the 
pieces  shrink  from  one-third  to  one-half  in  width,  and  a 
full  tenth  in  length,  but  the  more  they  shrink  the  more 
cockled  is  the  surface.  When  finished  the  tan  may 
measure  from  seventeen  to  twenty-four  yards  in  length, 
but  weight  and  not  measure  determines  its  value,  and 
the  scales  are  used  instead  of  the  yard-stick. 

While  the  Chinese  weave  only  the  original  Canton 
crape,  with  its  heavy  woof  and  firmly  twisted  threads, 

a6i 


yinrzkisha  Days  in  Japati 

the  Japanese  have  produced  a  dozen  kinds,  each  wrin- 
kled, cockled,  waved,  and  crinkled  in  different  ways.  The 
great  Joshu  district  produces  not  as  many  kinds  of  crape 
as  Kioto,  and  Nishijin's  looms  are  busier  each  year,  weav- 
ing crapes  as  light  and  thin  as  gauze,  or  as  heavy  and 
soft  as  velvet ;  some  costing  only  thirty  or  forty  cents 
a  yard,  and  others  two  and  three  dollars  for  an  arm's 
length.      The  soft,  thick,  heavily  -  ribbed  kabe  habuiai, 


i^^^i 


KABE    HABUTAI 


once  kept  for  ceremonial  gowns  and  the  favorite  gifts  of 
the  great,  is  most  expensive,  having  heavier  threads  and 
larger  cockles  than  other  crapes,  and  never  showing 
crease  or  wrinkle.  Plain  crape,  or  chirimen,  differs  as  the 
fineness  of  thread  and  the  closeness  of  weaving  add  to  its 
weight,  Ebisii  chirimen  might  be  called  repousee,  from 
the  scale-like  convexities  of  its  surface,  and  is  a  most 
fascinating  fabric.     Finest  and  most  exquisite  of  all  is 


Kioto  Silk  Industry 

the  lustrous  kinu  chirimen,  or  crinkled  silk,  which  shows 

"bnly  the  finest  lines  and  parallel  ridgings  marking  its 

surface  lengthwise.     Used  chiefly  for  the  carelessly  tied 

obi  of  the  bath  kimono,  or  as  obishime,  tied  over  the 


CHIRIMEN 

womens'  heavy  satin  and  brocade  obis  to  keep  their  stiff 
folds  in  place,  these  stringy  scarfs  add  a  last  artistic 
toucR  of  color  to  a  costume.  Kinu  chirimen  shrinks 
half  its  width,  but  loses  nothing  in  length  in  the  bath, 
and  a  tan  a  yard  wide  ranges  from  eighteen  to  twenty- 
eight  dollars  in  price.  Kanoko  chirimen  is  plain  crape 
dotted  over  with  knots  or  projections  in  different  colors, 
a  result  arrived  at  by  processes  similar  to  those  em- 
ployed at  Arimatsu  for  dyeing  cotton  goods. 

Yamamai,  so  little  known  outside  the  home  market,  is 
a  most  artistic  fabric,  roughly  and  loosely  woven  of  the 
threads  of  the  wild,  mountain  silk-worm,  that  is  fed  on 

a6j 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

oak- leaves.  Yamamai  has  the  natural  yellow  color  of 
the  cocoons,  is  considered  both  a  cure  and  preventive 
of  rheumatism,  and  is  often  worn  at  the  command  of 
foreign  physicians.  It  is  softer  to  the  touch  than  the 
Chinese  pongee,  not  being  weighted  with  the  clay  dress- 
ing of  Shantung  pongees,  while  much  heavier  than  the 
Indian  tussores,  all  three  of  these  fabrics  being  the 
product  of  the  same  wild  oak-spinner. 

The  painted  crapes  of  Kioto,  specially  designed  for 
children's  holiday  dresses  and  obis,  are  works  of  art,  in 
the  manufacture  of  which  the  old  capital  holds  almost  a 
monopoly.     All  the  elaborate  processes  of  patterning 


EBISU   CHIRIMEN 


such  crapes  were  shown  us  one  morning  at  Nishimura's 
great  establishment.  First,  on  a  square  of  white  crape, 
wrung  out  in  water  and  pasted  down  at  the  edges  on  a 
board,  the  outline  of  the  principal  design  was  sketched 

264 


Kioto  Silk  Industry 

in  indigo.  This  line  was  then  carefully  covered  by  a 
thread  of  starch,  drawn  from  a  glutinous  ball  held  upon 
the  point  of  a  stick,  while  the  painter  turned  and  tilted 
the  crape  to  receive  it.  This  starch,  or  '*  resist,"  as  oc- 
cidental dyers  term  it,  is  to  prevent  the  spreading  of  the 
colors  by  capillary  attraction,  and  the  limits  of  every 
color  must  be  carefully  defined,  unless  the  fabric  is  to 
be  made  one  of  those  marvellous  studies  of  blended  and 


KI.NU   CHIRI.MEN 


merging  tints.  As  soon  as  the  first  color  dried,  the  first 
starchy  outline  was  washed  out,  and  another  drawn  for 
the  second  color.  After  the  removal  of  each  "resist," 
the  square  was  stretched  on  bowed  bamboos  and  dried 
over  a  hibachi.  The  artist  had  purposely  worked  out 
his  design  with  such  cunning  that  it  was  only  when  the 
last  touches  in  red  had  been  given  that  we  discovered 
the  Daimonji's  fires  burning  on  the  mountain-side,  and 

265 


"Jinriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

a  troop  of  men,  women,  children,  and  jinrikishas,  all 
with  glowing  lanterns,  figuring  as  silhouettes  on  Sanjio 
bridge. 

When  a  whole  tan  of  crape  is  to  be  painted,  much  of 
the  design  may  be  stencilled  through  perforated  card- 
board, but,  in  general,  the  best  painted  crapes  display 
free-hand  sketches,  with  patterns  never  exactly  repeated, 
nor  exactly  matching  at  the  edges.  After  the  general 
outline  is  sketched,  the  tan,  sewn  together  at  the  ends, 
is  made  to  revolve  horizontally  on  two  cylinders,  like  a 
roller  towel,  passing  before  a  row  of  seated  workmen, 
each  of  whom  adds  a  single  color,  or  applies  the  "  resist," 
and  slips  it  along  to  the  next.  Sitting  on  the  mats,  the 
soles'of  his  feet  turned  upward  in  his  lap,  in  a  pose  that 
a  circus  contortionist  might  envy,  each  workman  has  a 
glowing  hibachi  at  his  knees,  over  which  he  dries  his 
own  work.  And  such  work !  Hazy  rainbows  on  misty 
skies,  flights  of  birds,  shadows  of  trees  and  rushes, 
branches  of  pines  and  blossoming  twigs,  comical  fig- 
ures, animals,  and  fantastical  chimeras,  kaleidoscopic  ar- 
rangements of  the  most  vivid  colors. the  eye  can  bear. 
These  painted  crapes  are  beyond  compare,  and  the  Eng- 
lish and  Dutch  imitations  in  printed  delaines  fall  ab- 
surdly short. 

Following  the  Chinese  example,  Kioto  silk -weavers 
now  make  silk  rugs  equalling  the  famous  ones  of  Pe- 
kin.  Even  when  new  they  have  a  finer  bloom  and 
sheen  than  the  old  prayer-rugs  of  western  Asia,  but  their 
designs,  first  made  from  the  suggestions  of  an  American 
house,  are  neither  Japanese,  Turkish,  nor  at  all  Orien- 
tal, nor  do  they  allow  the  best  effects  to  be  obtained. 
At  two  dollars  a  square  foot,  these  thick,  soft  rugs  make 
the  costliest  of  floor  coverings  in  a  country  where  the 
cotton  and  hemp  rugs  of  Osaka  sell  for  a  few  cents  a 
square  foot,  and  the  natural  camel's-hair  rugs  of  North 
China  for  eighteen  cents  a  square  foot. 

*66 


Embroideries  and  Curios 


CHAPTER   XXVII 
EMBROIDERIES   AND   CURIOS 

Their  range  of  stitches,  their  ingenious  methods  and 
combinations,  and  the  variety  of  effects  attained  with  the 
needle  and  a  few  strands  of  colored  silk,  easily  place  the 
Japanese  first  among  all  embroiderers.  Although  China 
taught  them  to  embroider,  they  far  surpass  the  Chinese 
in  design,  color,  and  artistic  qualities,  while  they  attain 
a  minute  and  mechanical  exactness  equal  to  the  soul- 
less, expressionless  precision  of  the  best  Chinese  work. 
They  can  simulate  the  hair  and  fur  of  animals,  the 
plumage  of  birds,  the  hard  scales  of  fishes  and  drag- 
ons, the  bloom  on  fruit,  the  dew  on  flowers,  the  muscles 
of  bodies,  tiny  faces  and  hands,  the  patterned  folds  of 
drapery,  the  clear  reflection  of  lacquer,  the  glaze  of  por- 
celains, and  the  patina  of  bronzes  in  a  way  impossible  to 
any  but  the  Japanese  hand  and  needle.  Sometimes  they 
cover  the  whole  groundwork  with  couched  designs  in  a 
heavy  knotted  silk,  and  this  peculiar  embroidery  has  the 
name  of  kindan  nuitsiike.  With  floss  silk,  with  twist- 
ed silks,  with  French  knots,  and  with  gold  and  silver 
thread,  couched  down  with  different  colored  silks,  with 
silk  threads  couched,  and  with  concealed  couchings,  a 
needle-worker  attains  every  color  effect  of  the  painter ; 
nor  does  the  embroiderer  disdain  to  use  the  brush,  or 
to  powder  and  spatter  his  designs  with  gold,  nor  to  en- 
croach upon  the  plastic  art  by  his  wonderful  modelling 
of  raised  surfaces,  rivalling  the  sculptor  with  his  counter- 
feit faces.  His  invention  and  ingenuity  are  inexhausti- 
ble, and  the  modern  craftsmen  preserve  all  the  skill  of 
their  ancestors. 

»67 


yinriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

The  oldest  existing  piece  of  Japanese  needle-work  is 
the  mandalla  of  a  nun,  kept  at  Tayema  temple  in  Yama- 
to,  which  is  certainly  of.  the  eighth  century,  although 
legend  ascribes  it  to  the  divine  Kwannon.  Pieces  of 
equal  antiquity,  doubtless,  are  in  the  sealed  godowns  of 
Nara  temples,  but  very  little  is  known  of  them.  The 
latest  triumphs  of  the  art,  pieces  showing  the  limit  of 
the  needle's  possibilities,  are  the  ornamental  panels  and 
makemono  executed  for  the  Tokio  palace,  and  other 
work  by  the  same  artists  exhibited  at  Paris  in  1889. 
This  exhibition  work  was  executed  under  imperial  com- 
mand at  Nishimura's,  the  largest  silk-shop  in  Kioto,  a 
place  to  which  every  visitor  is  piloted  forthwith.  Solid 
brown  walls,  black  curtained  doors,  and  the  crest  of 
three  hexagons  are  all  that  one  sees  from  without ;  but 
the  crest  is  repeated  at  door-ways  across  the  street  and 
around  corners,  until  one  realizes  what  a  village  of  crape- 
weavers  and  painters,  velvet-weavers  and  embroiderers, 
is  set  in  the  heart  of  Kioto  by  this  one  firm.  The  master 
of  the  three  hexagons  has  taken  innumerable  medals, 
gold,  silver,  and  bronze,  at  home  and  abroad,  and,  in  re- 
sponse to  every  invitation  to  make  a  national  exhibit, 
Government  commands  are  sent  him  at  Kioto.  The 
blank  outer  walls  and  common  entrance,  the  bare  rooms 
with  two  or  three  accountants  sitting  before  low  desks, 
do  not  indicate  the  treasures  of  godown  and  show-room 
that  lie  beyond.  In  an  inner  room,  with  an  exquisite 
ceiling  of  interlaced  pine  shavings,  curtains,  kakemono, 
screens,  and  fukusa  are  heaped  high,  while  others  are 
continually  brought  in  by  the  small  porters.  In  spite  of 
the  reputation  and  the  artistic  possibilities  of  the  estab- 
lishment, it  sends  out  much  cheap,  tasteless,  and  in- 
ferior work  to  meet  the  demands  of  foreign  trade,  and 
of  the  tourists  who  desire  the  so-called  Japanese  things 
they  are  used  to  seeing  at  home. 

For  the  old  embroideries,  those  splendid  relics  of  the 
268 


Embroideries  and  Curios 

national  life  with  its  showy  and  picturesque  customs, 
the  buyer  must  seek  the  second-hand  clothes-shops,  the 
pawn-shops  of  the  land.  In  the  Awata  district  lives  the 
great  dealer  who  gathers  in  old  kimonos,  obis,  fukusas, 
kesas,  temple  hangings,  brocades,  and  embroideries  from 
the  godowns  of  nobles,  commoners,  priests,  actors,  saints, 
and  sinners,  to  whom  ready  money  is  a  necessity.  Gei- 
shas and  actors,  with  the  extravagant  habits  of  their 
kind,  are  often  forced  to  part  with  their  wardrobes,  and 
the  second-hand  shops  are  half  filled  with  beautiful  and 
purely  Japanese  things  which  they  have  sacrificed.  When 
I  first  beheld  "  my  uncle  "  of  Awata,  his  was  a  dark,  ill- 
smelling,  old  clo'  shop,  with  two  bushy-headed,  poorly- 
dressed  attendants.  Gilbert  and  Sullivan  unwittingly 
made  his  fortune,  and  the  old  dealer  could  not  at  first 
understand  why  the  foreign  buyers,  hitherto  indifferent, 
should  suddenly  crowd  his  dingy  rooms,  empty  his  go- 
downs,  and  keep  his  men  busy  collecting  a  new  stock. 
Three  years  after  my  first  visit  there  was  a  large,  new 
building  with  high-heaped  shelves,  replacing  the  dirty  old 
house  and  its  questionable  bales  tied  up  in  blue  cotton, 
and  horribly  suggestive  of  smallpox,  cholera,  and  other 
contagions.  Prices  had  trebled  and  were  advancing 
steadily,  with  far  less  embarrassment  of  choice  in  the 
stock  than  formerly. 

The  gorgeous  kimonos  of  actors  and  geishas  offered 
at  such  shops  far  outnumber  those  richly-wrought  gowns 
worn  by  women  of  rank  at  holiday  times  and  at  the  pal- 
ace, and  most  of  the  showy  and  gorgeously-decorative 
gowns  displayed  in  western  drawing-rooms  have  ques- 
tionable histories.  Even  the  stores  of  No  dance  cos- 
tumes have  been  drawn  upon,  and  choice  old  brocades 
are  rarer  now  than  good  old  embroideries.  The  priest's 
kesa,  or  cloak,  a  symbolic  patchwork  of  many  pieces, 
and  the  squares  and  bits  from  temple  tables,  for  a  long 
time  offered  exquisite  bits  of  meshed  gold-thread  and 

a69 


Jitirikisha  Days  in  yapan 

colors,  and  on  the  back  of  such  pieces  one  often  found 
poems,  sacred  verses,  and  fervent  vows,  written  by  the 
pious  ones  who  had  made  offerings  of  them  to  the 
temples. 

The  stores  of  fukusas  seemed  inexhaustible  a  few  years 
ago,  and  I  can  remember  days  of  delight  in  that  ill-smell- 


ing old  corner  of  Awata,  when  one  out  of  every  five  fuku- 
sa  was  a  treasure,  while  now  there  are  hardly  five  good 
ones  in  a  hundred  of  those  needle  pictures.  The  finest 
work  was  lavished  on  these  squares  of  satin  or  crape, 


Embroideries  and  Curios 

which  former  etiquette  demanded  to  have  laid  over  the 
boxes  containing  gifts  or  notes,  both  box  and  fukusa  to 
be  duly  admired  and  returned  to  the  sender.  These  cer- 
emonial cloths  were  part  of  the  trousseau  of  every  bride 
of  high  degree,  and  old  families  possess  them  by  scores. 
The  nicest  etiquette  ordered  the  choice  of  the  fukusa, 
and  the  season,  the  gift,  the  giver,  and  the  receiver  were 
considered  in  selecting  the  particular  wrapping.  The 
greatest  artists  have  made  designs  for  them,  and  a  few 
celebrated  ones,  bearing  Hokusai's  signature,  are  owned 
by  European  collectors.  The  crests  of  the  feudal  families 
become  familiar  to  one  from  their  constant  repetition  on 
fukusas.  Numberless  Japanese  legends,  and  symbols  as 
well,  constantly  reappear,  and  no  two  are  ever  exactly 
alike  in  design  or  execution,  however  often  one  may  see 
the  same  subject  treated.  Equally  popular  are  all  the 
symbols  of  long  life — the  pine,  the  plum,  the  bamboo;  the 
tortoise  with  the  fringed  shell  that  lives  for  a  thousand 
years ;  the  peach  that  took  a  thousand  years  to  ripen ;  the 
stork,  the  old  man  and  woman  under  the  pine-tree  hail- 
ing the  rising  sun — and  all,  when  wrapping  a  gift,  equal- 
ly convey  a  delicately  expressed  wish  for  length  of  days. 
The  fierce  old  saints  and  disciples,  who  with  their  drag- 
ons and  tigers  live  on  old  Satsuma  surfaces,  keep  com- 
pany with  the  sages  who  rode  through  the  air  on  storks, 
tortoises,  or  carp,  or  stand  unrolling  sacred  scrolls  be- 
neath bamboo  groves.  And  the  Seven  Household  Gods 
of  Luck,  the  blessed  Shichi  Fukujin,  are  on  the  fukusa 
as  well.  There  smile  Daikoku,  the  god  of  riches,  upon 
his  rice-bags,  hammer  and  purse  in  hand ;  Ebisu,  the  god 
of  plenty,  with  his  little  red  fish  ;  Jurojin,  the  serene  old 
god  of  longevity,  with  his  mitred  cap,  white  beard,  staff, 
and  deer;  high-browed  Fukurokujin,  lord  of  popularity 
and  wisdom ;  Hotei,  spirit  of  goodness  and  kindness, 
sack  on  back,  fan  in  hand,  and  children  climbing  and 
tumbling  over  him ;  black-faced  Bishamon,  god  of  war 

a7« 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

and  force,  holding  his  lance  and  miniature  pagoda ;  and 
Benten  Sama,  goddess  of  grace  and  beauty,  playing  the 
lute. 

Takara  Bum,  the  good -luck  ship,  the  New-year's 
junk,  with  dragon  beak  and  silken  sail,  bearing  rich 
gifts  from  the  unknown  land,  is  another  favorite  subject. 
To  sleep  with  takara  bune's  image  under  one's  wooden 
pillow  on  New-year's  night  insures  good-luck  and  good 
dreams  for  the  rest  of  the  year.  Quite  as  significant  are 
the  takara  mono,  the  ancient  and  classic  good-luck  sym- 
bols, which  are  the  hat,  hammer,  key,  straw  coat,  bag  or 
purse,  sacred  gem  or  pearl,  the  scrolls,  the  clove,  the 
shippo,  or  seven  precious  things,  and  the  weights.  These 
emblems,  introduced  everywhere,  fill  flower-circles,  or  the 
spaces  and  groundwork  of  geometrical  designs,  and  are 
always  received  with  favor.  The  shojo,  who  have  drunk 
sakd  until  their  hair  has  turned  red,  the  rats  and  the  rad- 
ish, the  cock  on  the  temple  drum,  poerns  in  superb  let- 
tering, all  ornament  the  fukusa,  and  there  the  mysterious 
manji,  or  hook-cross,  and  the  mitsu  tomoye,  or  three  com- 
mas curved  within  a  circle,  are  continually  reproduced. 

This  manji  is  the  Svastika,  or  Buddhist  cross  of  In- 
dia, which  appears  in  the  frescos  of  the  Pyramids  and 
the  Catacombs,  in  Greek  art,  in  Etruscan 
tombs,  in  the  embroideries  and  missals  of 
mediaeval  Europe,  in  the  Scandinavian  de- 
sign known  as  Thor's  hammer,  in  old  Eng- 

n     ' lish  heraldry,  in  the  Chinese  symbol  called 

-J' '     the  "tablet  of  honor,"  and  on  innumerable 


temple  ornaments. 
Five  of  the  old  daimio  families  had  the  manji  as  their 
crest,  and  it  came  to  Japan  from  China  and  India,  along 
with  the  Buddhist  religion.  On  old  armor,  flags,  and  war 
fans  it  is  constantly  found,  and  it  is  the  sign  of  life,  of  the 
four  elements,  of  eternity ;  the  portent  of  good-luck,  the 
talisman  of  safety  from  evil  spirits,  and  an  amulet  against 


Embroideries  and  Curios 

threats  or  harm  from  any  of  the  four  quarters ;  while 
the  word  "  manji "  is  derived  from  the  Chinese  word 
"  mantse,"  meaning  ten  thousand. 

The  mitsu  tomoye  is  another  universal  symbol  of  in- 
numerable meanings.  It  occurs  on  the  crests  of  eight 
daimio  families;  on  temple  drums,  lanterns, 
the  ends  of  tiles,  and  on  Daikoku's  mallet. 
It  is  variously  said  to  represent  falling 
snow,  leaping  flames,  dashing  water,  and 
clouds;  the  thongs  of  a  warrior's  glove, 
uncurling  fern -fronds,  the  down  of  seed 
pods ;  the  three  great  elements,  fire,  air,  and  water,  the 
origin  of  matter,  the  great  principles  of  nature,  an  orien- 
tal trinity.  On  house-tiles  and  ridge-poles  it  invokes 
protection  from  the  three  evils — fire,  thieves,  and  flood, 
and  everywhere  these  two  mysterious  symbols  confront 
one. 

Kioto  abounds  in  curio-shops,  ranging  from  the  half- 
mile  long  row  on  either  side  of  the  Manjiuji  to  the 
splendid  accumulations  and  choice  art  collections  of 
Ikeda,  Hayashi,  Kiukioda,  Takada,  and  the  bazaar  at  the 
foot  of  Maruyama.  At  Ikedas,  which  is  really  an  art  mu- 
seum filled  with  precious  things,  the  processes  of  damas- 
cening and  lacquering  may  be  watched.  It  has  been  prov- 
en of  late  that,  when  patrons  will  pay  a  price  to  warrant 
the  endless  labor  and  care,  as  good  lacquer  may  be  made 
to-day  as  formerly.  Connoisseurs  admit  that  they  are 
often  deceived,  and  that  they  are  able  to  tell  the  qual- 
ity only,  and  not  the  age,  of  any  really  choice  piece. 
The  new  is  as  indestructible  as  the  old,  if  carefully  made. 
A  pin-point  or  a  hot  coal  leaves  no  mark,  a  year's  bath 
in  sea-water  no  trace,  and  amateur  photographers  have 
found  it  proof  against  the  acids  and  chemicals  of  devel- 
oping fluids.  Yet  this  substance,  enduring  as  crystal,  is 
made  by  coat  upon  coat  of  an  ill  smelling  black  varnish, 
which,  stirred  in  a  tub  with  iron-filings,  and  set  in  the 
s  »" 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

sun  to  thicken  and  blacken,  may  be  seen  daily  in  the 
streets  of  any  Japanese  city.  New  lacquer  is  so  poison- 
ous to  many  persons  that  the  curious  are  content  to 
watch  at  a  distance,  while  the  workmen  apply  coat  after 
coat,  set  the  article  in  a  moistened  box  to  dry  slowly, 
and  grinding  and  polishing  surface  after  surface,  add 
those  wonderful  decorations  that  result  in  a  trifle  light 
as  air  and  precious  as  gold  or  gems. 

The  "  incense-shop  "  is  one  of  the  choicest  and  most 
truly  Japanese  of  curio-shops.  It  looks,  from  the  street, 
an  every-day  affair ;  but  after  propitiating  the  attendants 
by  a  purchase  of  perfume,  the  inner  wealth  is  revealed 
in  rooms  filled  with  the  choicest  old  wares.  The  sales- 
men tempt  the  visitor  with  rare  koros,  or  incense -burn- 
ers, and,  in  an  elementary  way,  the  master  plays  the  dai- 
mio's  old  game  of  the  Twenty  Perfumes.  He  sprinkles 
on  the  hibachi's  glowing  coals  some  little  black  morsels 
in  the  shape  of  leaves,  blossoms,  or  characters ;  scatter- 
ing green  particles,  brown  particles,  and  grayish  ones, 
and  showing  the  ignorant  alien  how  to  catch  the  as- 
cending column  of  pale-blue  smoke  in  the  bent  hand, 
close  the  fingers  upon  it,  and  convey  it  to  the  nose. 
You  cannot  tell  which  odor  you  prefer,  nor  remember 
which  dried  particle  gave  forth  a  particular  fragrance. 
The  nose  is  bewildered  by  the  commingled  wreaths  and 
mixed  cathedral  odors,  and  the  master  chuckles  delight- 
edly. 

There  are  certain  curio-shops  of  an  even  more  exalted 
kind,  unknown  to  tourists,  and  reserved  to  Japanese 
connoisseurs  and  to  those  few  eminent  foreign  residents 
who,  in  taste  and  appreciation,  are  Japanese.  There, 
little  tea-jars,  ancient  tea-bowls,  and  ornaments  for  the 
ink -box  delight  those  to  the  manner  born,  and  com- 
mand great  prices  ;  and  there  one  sees  the  precious  iron 
pots  of  Riobondo  lifted  from  brocade  bags,  and  ancient 
pieces  of  wrought  and  inlaid  bronze  and  iron,  old  hel- 


Embroideries  and  Curios 

mets  and  swords,  such  as  are  to  be  found  nowhere 
else. 

Tokio  and  Osaka  rival  the  Kioto  makers  of  the  finer 
modern  metal -work,  all  three  cities  having  been  equal 
capitals  and  centres  of  wealth  and  luxury  in  the  feudal 
days,  when  the  armorer  was  the  warrior's  right-hand. 
The  descendants  of  the  ancient  metal-workers  of  Kioto 
still  labor  at  the  old  forges,  and  marvels  of  art,  as  well 
as  of  patient  labor,  come  from  the  various  workshops  of 
the  town.  Both  old  and  new  designs  are  employed  to 
beautify  new  combinations  of  metals,  but  at  the  present 
day  the  metal  -  workers'  art  expends  itself  on  trifling 
things.  Instead  of  adorning  armor  and  weapons  and 
fashioning  their  exquisite  ornaments,  the  artists'  taste 
and  skill  must  be  lavished  on  vases,  placques,  incense- 
burners,  hibachis,  water-pots,  and  flower-stands,  and  the 
countless  cheap  trifles  and  specimens  of  bijouterie  made 
for  exportation.  In  the  coloring,  cutting,  and  inlaying 
of  bronze  the  Japanese  are  unrivalled ;  but  for  the  great 
metal-work  of  the  empire  the  student  of  native  art  must 
visit  private  collections  and  the  treasures  of  the  great 
curio-shops. 

Feudal  life  invested  swords  and  armor  with  their  high 
estate,  and  gave  the  armorer  his  rank.  The  fine  temper 
of  the  old  blades  has  long  challenged  European  admira- 
tion, and  the  sword-guards,  the  knife -handles,  and  the 
minute  ornaments  of  the  hilt  are  beyond  compare.  Sen- 
timent, legend,  and  poetry  glorify  the  sword,  and  the 
edict  of  1 87 1,  which  forbade  their  use  as  weapons,  in- 
creased their  value  as  relics,  and  brought  thousands  of 
them  into  the  curio  market.  In  rich  and  noble  families 
they  have  always  been  treasured,  but  collections  of  fine 
blades  are  found  in  other  countries  as  well,  and  the 
names  of  Muramasa  and  Masamun^  and  the  Miochin 
family,  are  as  well  known  as  that  of  Benvenuto  Cellini 
to  connoisseurs  of  metal-work  anywhere. 

a7S 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

In  the  earlier  uncommercial  times  little  distinction  was 
recognized  in  the  comparative  value  of  metals.  Their 
fitness  for  the  purpose  required,  and  the  effectiveness  of 
their  tints  and  tones  for  carrying  out  ornamental  de- 
signs, were  what  the  artist  considered.  One  metal  was 
as  easily  wrought  by  him  as  another.  Iron  was  like  clay 
in  his  competent  hands,  and  he  moulded,  cut,  and  ham- 
mered as  he  willed,  using  copper,  gold,  silver,  iron,  tin, 
zinc,  lead,  and  antimony  simply  as  pigments,  and  com- 
bining them  as  a  painter  would  his  colors.  The  well- 
known  sniduic/ii,  or  mixed  copper  and  silver,  and  shakudo 
or  mixed  iron,  copper,  and  gold,  are  only  general  names 
for  the  great  range  of  tints  and  tones,  shading  from 
tawniest- yellow  to  darkest- brown  and  a  purple -black, 
and  from  silver-white  to  the  darkest  steely-gray.  Silver 
and  gold  were  inlaid  with  iron,  the  harder  metal  upon 
the  softer,  and  solid  lumps  of  gold,  silver,  and  lead  are 
found  encrusted  in  bronze  in  a  way  to  defy  all  known 
laws  of  the  fusion  of  metals.  While  good  and  even  mar- 
vellous work  is  still  done,  the  old  spirit  is  gone,  and  the 
objects  of  to-day  seem  almost  umvorthy  the  art  lavished 
on  them. 

The  magic  mirror  is  still  manufactured  in  Kioto,  and 
although  the  tourist  is  often  assured  that  it  does  not 
exist,  innumerable  specimens  prove  that  the  face  of  a 
common  polished  steel  mirror,  of  good  quality,  will  reflect 
the  same  design  as  that  raised  in  relief  on  its  back.  With 
small  mirrors  ten  inches  in  diameter,  as  with  the  largest, 
in  their  elaborate  lacquered  cases,  one  may  throw,  with 
a  ray  of  sunlight,  a  clear-cut  image  on  wall  or  ceiling. 
The  pressure  of  the  uneven  surface  at  the  back,  the  va- 
rying density  of  the  metal,  and  the  effect  of  polishing, 
all  combine  to  give  this  curious  attribute  to  these  kaga- 
mi,  which  are  gradually  giving  place  to  foreign  glass  and 
quicksilver. 

376 


Potteries  and  Paper  Wares 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 
POTTERIES   AND    PAPER    WARES 

The  porcelains  of  Kiomidzu,  renowned  as  they  are 
throughout  Japan,  figure  lightly  in  the  export  trade  lists, 
as  compared  to  the  immense  shipments  of  decorated 
faience  from  the  Awata  district,  for  which  there  is  such 
demand  in  foreign  countries.  On  the  main  street  of 
that  quarter,  which  is  the  beginning  of  the  Tokaido,  the 
larger  establishments  cluster  near  together,  and  Kinko- 
zan,  Tanzan,  and  Taizan  attract  one  in  turn.  Latticed 
walls  and  plain  gate-ways  admit  visitors  to  a  succession 
of  show-rooms,  where  they  may  wander  and  look.  As 
it  is  the  characteristic  Japanese  custom  to  consider  every 
foreigner  as  a  mere  sight-seer,  who  puts  tradesmen  to 
trouble  for  nothing,  the  bushy-headed  young  men  in 
their  clean,  cool  cotton  gowns  make  no  effort  to  sell 
until  he  purchases  something.  Then  he  is  led  through 
further  rooms  to  godowns  or  upper  chambers,  and  their 
more  desirable  wares  are  displayed. 

Kinkozan's  specialty  is  the  manufacture  of  the  fine, 
cream-colored  faience  with  a  crackled  glaze,  which,  when 
decorated  in  one  way,  is  known  as  Kioto  or  Awata  ware, 
and  when  covered  with  a  blaze  of  color  and  gilding  is 
the  gaudily  gorgeous,  modern,  or  Kioto  Satsuma,  export- 
ed by  ship-loads  to  America,  where  its  crude  hues  and 
cheap  effects  are  enjoyed.  No  cultivated  Japanese, 
however,  would  ever  give  these  monstrosities  a  place  in 
his  own  home.  In  America  these  garish  six-months-old 
vases  and  koros  are  even  passed  off  as  old  Satsuma, 

»77 


yinrzkt'sha  Days  in  Japan 

to  which  softly -toned  and  simply  -  decorated  ware  it 
is  no  more  like  than  is  a  Henri  Deux  tazza  to  a  Limo- 
ges garden  -  stool.  Kinkozan  turns  out  also  a  coarse 
s/iippoyaki,  or  doisonnee  enamel,  some  on  faience  and 
some  on  copper  ground ;  and  the  blue-and-white-gowned 
young  man  will  lead  one  past  garden  and  godown,  and 
show  one  every  stage  and  process  of  the  manufacture  of 
the  different  wares.  The  potters  sit  in  little  open  al- 
coves of  rooms,  each  with  his  low  wheel  and  heap  of 
clay  before  him.  One  old  man  sits  with  his  feet  doubled 
up  before  him,  his  right  foot  locked  fast  in  the  bend 
of  the  left  knee,  and  the  left  foot  laid  sole  upward  on 
the  right  thigh,  in  the  impossible  attitude  of  so  many 
Buddhas.  This  position  he  maintains  with  comfort  for 
hours,  and  this  lean,  bald-headed,  old  man,  wearing 
nothing  but  a  loin-cloth  and  a  pair  of  huge,  round,  owl- 
ish spectacles,  is  as  interesting  as  his  work.  He  puts  a 
handful  of  wet  gray  clay  on  the  wheel  before  him,  mak- 
ing it  revolve  with  a  dexterous  touch  of  the  hand,  while 
he  works  the  lump  of  clay  into  a  thick,  broad  bowl.  With 
his  fingers  and  a  few  little  sticks  he  soon  stretches  the 
bowl  upward,  narrows  it  for  a  neck,  broadens  and  flat- 
tens it  a  little  at  the  top,  and  presently  lifts  off  a  graceful 
vase  and  sets  it  on  a  board  with  a  row  of  others.  In  an- 
other place  the  workmen  are  grinding  and  working  the 
clay ;  in  another,  preparing  the  glaze  and  applying  it, 
and  near  them  are  the  kilns  in  every  stage.  In  a  further 
garden  the  decorators  are  at  work,  each  with  his  box  of 
brushes  and  colors  beside  him,  the  vase  being  kept  in 
half- horizontal  position  before  him  by  a  wooden  rest. 
Each  piece  goes  from  one  man  to  another,  beginning 
with  the  one  who  sketches  the  designs  in  faint  outline, 
thence  passing  to  him  who  does  the  faces,  to  a  third  who 
applies  the  red,  to  a  fourth  who  touches  in  the  diaper- 
work  and  traceries,  and  so  on  to  the  man  who  liberal- 
ly bestows  the  gilding.     Lastly,  two  women  slowly  bur- 

278 


Potteries  and  Paper  Wares 

nish  the  gold  by  rubbing  it  over  with  wet  agates  or  car- 
nelian. 

At  the  other  houses  faience,  in  an  infinity  of  new  and 
strange  designs  and  extraordinary  colors  is  seen,  each 
less  and  less  Japanese.  All  these  Awata  potters  work 
almost  entirely  for  the  foreign  market,  and  their  novel- 
ties are  not  disclosed  to  the  visitor,  nor  sold  in  Japan, 
until  they  have  had  their  vogue  in  the  New  York  and 
London  markets.  From  those  foreign  centres  come  in- 
structions as  to  shapes,  colors,  and  designs  likely  to  prove 
popular  for  another  season,  and  the  ceramic  artists  ab- 
jectly follow  these  foreign  models.  All  this  helps  to  con- 
fuse a  stranger ;  for,  though  the  wares  are  named  for  the 
districts,  towns,  and  provinces  of  their  supposed  nativi- 
ty, he  finds  them  made  everywhere  else  —  Satsuma,  in 
three  or  four  places  outside  of  Satsuma ;  the  Kaga  of 
commerce,  almost  anywhere  except  in  Kaga ;  while  un- 
decorated  porcelain  is  brought  from  France  by  ship-loads 
to  be  decorated  and  sent  out  again,  and  everywhere  the 
debasing  effect  of  imitation  and  of  this  yielding  to  for- 
eign dictates  appears. 

Cart-loads,  car-loads,  and  ship-loads  of  screens  go  from 
the  great  ports  to  foreign  countries,  and  in  Kioto  the 
larger  proportion  of  these  are  manufactured.  Whether 
byobtt,  the  screen,  is  a  purely  Japanese  invention,  or  a 
variation  of  the  hinged  door  easily  suggested  to  any 
primitive  people  who  can  watch  Nature's  many  trap- 
doors and  hinges,  this  people  certainly  makes  most  per- 
sistent use  of  it.  Twenty  different  kinds  may  be  seen  in 
one's  daily  rides  past  the  little  open  houses,  but  never 
does  one  discover  the  abominations  in  coarse  gold  thread 
on  black  satin  grounds  so  common  in  our  country  and 
so  highly  esteemed.  The  four-fold  or  six-fold  screen  of 
a  Japanese  house  has  its  plain  silk,  paper,  or  gold-leaf 
surface,  covered  with  one  large  design  or  picture  extend- 
ing over  the  whole  surface,  instead  of  the  narrow  panels 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

and  patches  of  separate  pictures  which  Western  taste  de- 
mands. In  great  establishments  and  monasteries  there 
is  a  tsiii  tate,  or  flat,  solid  screen  of  a  single  panel,  within 
the  main  door-way  or  vestibule — a  survival  of  a  Chinese 
fashion,  intended  less  to  baffle  inquisitive  eyes  than  to 
keep  out  evil  spirits  and  beasts.  Peculiar  to  Kioto  are 
screens  on  which  phosphorescent  paint  is  used.  A  fa- 
vorite design  for  these  is  the  rice  field  at  dusk,  starred 
with  flickering  fire-flies,  whose  lights  glow  the  more  as 
the  room  darkens.  A  half  century  ago  Gioksen,  the  ar- 
tist, achieved  great  fame  with  these  phosphorescent  fire- 
flies ;  and  recently  the  idea  has  been  revived,  with  a  fine 
promise  of  being  vulgarized,  growing  coarser  and  cheaper 
in  execution  and  poorer  in  quality,  to  meet  the  demands 
of  the  barbarian  markets  of  the  Occident.  In  the  New- 
year  week,  when  each  family  brings  out  its  choicest 
screens,  the  display  in  the  best  streets  is  an  art  exhibition. 
Screens  of  all  sorts  are  more  important  in  summer  life 
than  clothing,  and,  of  necessity,  are  greatly  relied  on  in 
the  absence  of  garments.  Screens  with  tiny  windows  in 
them  shelter  the  undressed  citizen  and  give  him  glimpses 
of  the  road,  and  screens  with  a  variety  of  shelves  and 
hooks  bring  a  whole  kitchen  to  the  side  of  the  hibachi 
on  a  windy  day.  Among  summer  screens,  the  common- 
est is  the  sudare,  or  curtain  of  reeds  or  tiny  bamboo 
joints  strung  on  threads.  The  waving  of  these  strings 
and  their  tinkling  sound  are  supposed  to  suggest  the 
freshness  of  the  stirring  breeze,  and  the  Japanese  imag- 
ination transforms  the  bits  of  crystal,  strung  here  and 
there,  into  cool  rain-drops  slipping  down  the  bamboo 
stems.  The  taste  of  the  foreign  buyer  has  vulgarized 
the  sudare,  which  is  often  a  nightmare  of  crude  design 
and  worse  color,  weighted  with  glass  beads  of  every  col- 
or, and  even  made  entirely  of  beads.  The  sudare  in  the 
streets  of  a  Japanese  town  is  almost  as  surely  a  sign  of 

a  shop  where  shaved  ice  and  cooling  drinks  may  be  had, 

280 


Potteries  and  Paper  Wares 

as  is  our  striped  pole  of  the  Occidental  barber's  prem- 
ises. 

Kioto  fans  are  celebrated,  but  they  are  no  better  now 
than  those  of  other  cities,  and  prettier  Japanese  fans  are 
sold  in  New  York  for  less  money  than  in  Japan,  because 
the  enormous  foreign  demand  keeps  the  best  fan-paint- 
ers and  fan-makers  of  Kioto  constantly  employed  on  ex- 
port orders.  American  importers  send  their  buyers  to 
Kioto  and  Osaka  every  spring  to  order  fans  for  the  fol- 
lowing year.  Designer  and  maker  submit  hundreds  of 
models,  and  the  buyer  offers  suggestions  as  to  color  and 
shapes.  The  men  who  execute  these  large  orders  sel- 
dom have  an  open  shop  or  sales-room,  and  their  places 
are  known  only  to  the  trade.  Thousands  and  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  ogi,  or  folding  fans,  go  annually  from 
the  port  of  Hiogo-Kobe  to  America,  and  as  many  more 
from  Yokohama ;  while  of  the  flat  fans  with  handles, 
the  nchiwa,  the  number  is  even  greater.  One  American 
railroad  company  has  for  years  taken  a  hundred  thou- 
sand uchiwa  each  season  for  advertising  purposes,  one 
side  being  left  plain,  to  be  printed  upon  after  they  reach 
the  United  States. 

The  fan  is  the  most  ancient  and  important  utility  in 
Japan,  and  since  Jingo  Kogo  invented  the  ogi,  after  the 
model  of  a  bat's  wing,  men,  women,  and  children  have 
never  ceased  carrying  one  in  their  summer  obi  folds. 
Fans  are  the  regulation  gift  upon  every  occasion  and  lack 
of  occasion,  and  a  large  collection  is  acquired  in  the 
fewest  summer  weeks.  Every  large  shop  and  tea-house 
has  its  own  specially  decorated  and  perfectly  well-known 
uchiwa  to  be  given  to  patrons,  who  in  that  way  declare 
their  wanderings ;  and  at  feasts  each  guest  receives  a 
plain  white  ogi,  upon  which  poems,  autographs,  and 
sketches  are  to  be  traced  by  his  fellow-guests. 

Formerly,  Kioto  shops  exhibited  many  more  kinds  of 
fans  than  at  present.    Among  them  were  the  court  fans, 

aSi 


Jinrtkisha  Days  in  Japan 

or  hiogi,  made  of  twenty-five  broad  wooden  sticks  strung 
together,  and  wound  with  heavy  silk  cords,  and  as  long 
as  the  Empress  retained  the  old  dress  she  and  her  ladies 
carried  these  heavy  and  useless  articles.  The  suehiro,  or 
wide-end  fans  of  the  priests,  were  a  specialty  of  Kioto 
and  Nara,  and  the  suehiro  accompanied  every  gift  at 
New  Years,  weddings,  and  anniversaries,  as  certainly  as 
the  red  and  gold  cords  and  oddly  folded  little  papers 
now  do.  The  gumbai  uchiwa,  heavy  war  fans,  often  with 
iron  or  bronze  outer-sticks,  went  with  each  suit  of  armor ; 
and  the  large  oblong  uchiwa,  descending  from  priests  to 
No  dancers  and  to  umpires  in  games  and  contests,  were 
equally  well-known  productions  of  Kioto.  Fans  serve  an 
infinite  variety  of  purposes  and  speak  a  language  in  this 
land  of  their  own,  and  no  season  or  condition  of  life  is 
without  its  ministrations.  The  farmer  winnows  his  grain 
with  a  fan,  the  housewife  blows  up  the  charcoal  fire  with 
a  fan,  and  gardeners,  sitting  for  hours  on  patient  heels, 
will  softly  fan  half-open  flowers  until  every  petal  unfolds. 
For  specific  gifts,  specific  designs  and  colors  appear. 
One  fan  may  be  offered  to  a  lady  as  a  declaration  of  love. 
Another  serves  as  her  sign  of  dismissal,  and  the  Japan- 
ese are  often  amused  to  see  foreigners  misapply  the  lan- 
guage and  etiquette  of  fans. 

Although  gas  and  electricity  light  every  Japanese  city, 
and  American  and  Russian  kerosene  come  in  whole  car- 
goes, the  manufacture  of  paper  lanterns  increases  apace, 
for  now  all  the  quarters  of  the  globe  demand  them.  Con- 
structing the  flimsy  frames  is  a  sleight-of-hand  process, 
and  with  the  same  deftness  the  old  lantern-makers  dash 
on  designs,  characters,  and  body-colors,  with  a  bold  brush. 
But  one  must  live  in  Japan  to  appreciate  the  softened 
light  of  lanterns,  and  in  the  lavish  and  general  nightly 
use  of  them  learn  all  the  fairy-like  and  splendid  effects 
to  be  obtained  with  a  bit  of  paper,  some  wisps  of  bamboo, 
and  a  little  vegetable  wax  poured  around  a  paper  wick. 


Potteries  and  Paper  Wares 

Cotton  goods  are  largely  manufactured  in  Kioto,  and 
at  all  seasons  the  upper  reaches  of  the  Kamogawa's 
broad,  stony  bed  are  white  with  bleaching  cloth.  The  Ka- 
mogawa's water,  which  is  better  for  tea-making,  for  rice- 
boiling,  and  for  mixing  dyes  than  the  water  of  any  other 
stream  in  Japan,  is  also  sovereign  for  bleaching,  and  its 
banks  are  lined  for  a  long  distance  with  dyeing  establish- 
ments. The  river-bed,  paved  with  stones  under  each  of  its 
great  bridges,  is  dreary,  wind-swept,  and  colorless  in  win- 
ter-time, as  compared  to  its  summer  brilliancy;  but  in  Jan- 
uary it  is  the  place  of  the  kite-flyers,  and  Hideyoshi's 
bronze-railed  Shijo  bridge — the  southern  end  of  the  To- 
kaido,  the  centre  from  which  all  distances  are  measured 
— commands  a  view  of  an  unexampled  aerial  carnival. 
Thousands  of  giant  kites  float  upward,  and  the  air  is 
filled  with  a  humming,  as  they  soar,  sweep,  and  circle 
over  the  city  like  huge  birds.  Kite  combats  take  place 
in  mid-air,  and  strings  covered  with  pounded  glass  cut 
other  strings,  and  let  the  half-animate  paper  birds  and 
demons  loose.  Jinrikisha  coolies  on  bridges  and  streets 
must  dodge  the  hanging  strings,  and  boys  run  over  and 
into  each  other  while  watching  their  ventures ;  but  the 
traditional  kite-flying  grandfathers  whom  one  reads  about 
in  Western  prints  are  conspicuous  by  their  absence. 

There  is  a  game  of  battledore  and  shuttlecock  much 
played  at  the  same  season  by  the  girls,  the  battledore  a 
flat  wooden  paddle  ornamented  with  gaudy  pictures  of 
Japanese  women.  The  game  is  a  pretty  one,  and  the 
girls  are  wonderfully  graceful  in  playing  it,  the  long 
sleeves  and  the  flying  obi-ends  taking  on  expressive  ac- 
tion when  these  charming  maidens  race  and  leap  through 
its  changes. 

Kioto  is  not  without  its  theatres  and  places  of  amuse- 
ment, ever  ready  to  beguile  one  from  the  sight-seeing 
and  shopping  rounds.  Its  great  actor  is  Nakamura,  and 
it  maintains  an  academy  for  the  training  of  maiko  and 


y/nriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

geisha,  where  every  spring  there  is  a  long-drawn-out  fes- 
tival of  dances  to  help  on  the  rejoicings  of  the  cherry- 
blossom  season.  But  its  great  place  of  amusement,  its 
Vanity  Fair,  is  the  narrow  theatre  or  show  street  running 
from  Sanjio  to  Shijo  Street,  just  beyond  the  bridges. 
This  thoroughfare  is  lined  all  the  way  with  rows  of 
shops,  labyrinthine  bazaars,  stalls,  and  booths,  theatres, 
side-shows,  peep-shows,  puppet-shows,  wax-works,  jug- 
glers, acrobats,  wrestlers,  trained  animals,  story-tellers, 
fortune-tellers,  all  exploited  by  the  voice  and  drum  of 
their  loquacious  agents  at  the  door-way.  No  jinrikishas 
are  allowed  to  run  on  this  highway,  and  day  and  night, 
morning  and  midnight,  it  is  filled  with  strolling  people 
and  playing  children.  In  winter  it  is  a  cheering  refuge 
from  the  wider,  wind-swept  streets,  and  in  summer  days 
it  is  cool  and  shady,  the  pavement  constantly  sprinkled, 
and  the  light  and  heat  kept  out  by  mat  awnings  stretch- 
ed across  the  narrow  road -way  from  roof  to  roof,  in 
Chinese  fashion.  At  night  it  is  the  busiest  place  in 
Kioto,  even  with  the  rival  attraction  of  the  river-bed; 
crowded  with  revellers,  torches  flaring,  drums  and  gongs 
sounding,  the  high  -  pitched,  nasal  voices,  of  the  show- 
men sing-songing  their  stories  and  programmes;  and 
peddlers,  pilgrims,  priests,  men,  women,  and  children, 
and  the  strangers  within  their  gates,  making  up  the 
throng.  Once  when  a  giantess  was  on  exhibition  in 
a  tent  the  spectators,  instead  of  being  awed  by  her  he- 
roic eight  feet  of  height,  were  convulsed  with  laughter 
at  sight  of  her.  Every  movement  of  the  colossus  sent 
them  into  fresh  spasms.  It  was  like  a  personification 
of  some  netsuke  group  to  see  this  huge  creature,  with 
hair-pins  like  clubs,  and  clogs  as  large  as  a  door-step, 
standing  with  folded  arms,  while  pigmy  visitors  climbed 
up  to  perch  like  insects  on  her  shoulders. 

In  this  ever-open  market  one  may  buy  the  tailless  cats 
of  the  country ;   forlorn,  spiritless  creatures,  staying  at 

284 


Golden  Days 

home  and  in-doors  at  night,  and  never  going  on  midnight 
prowls.  Or,  if  he  prefer,  there  are  the  wonderful  long- 
tailed  Tosa  chickens,  fowls  kept  in  tall,  bamboo  cages, 
that  their  tail-feathers,  measuring  ten  and  twelve  feet  in 
length,  may  make  a  graceful  display.  When  they  are  let 
out  to  scratch  and  wander  about  like  other  chickens, 
their  precious  feathers  are  rolled  up  in  papers  and  pro- 
tected from  any  chance  of  harm,  Japanese  spaniels,  or 
Kioto  chins,  those  little  black-and-white,  silky-eared  pets, 
with  big,  tearful,  goggle  eyes,  and  heads  as  round  and 
high  as  Fukurokojin's,  are  fashionably  dear,  ranging  from 
five  to  forty  dollars  each,  even  in  their  native  town. 

From  the  lower  end  of  Theatre  Street  a  covered  way 
leads  to  the  fish-market  of  the  city,  a  dark,  cool,  stone- 
floored  place,  where  more  peculiar  things  may  be  bought, 
and  more  picturesque  groups  may  be  studied,  in  the 
strange  Rembrandtesque  light,  than  anywhere  else  in 
Kioto.  The  foreign  artists,  who  carry  away  scores  of 
sketches  of  Japanese  life,  seem  never  to  find  this  fish- 
market,  nor  in  general  to  seize  the  best  and  least  hack- 
neyed subjects.  Most  of  their  pictures  have  been  long 
anticipated  by  the  native  photographers,  and  the  foreign 
artist  repeats,  with  less  fidelity,  the  familiar  scenes  and 
subjects,  with  that  painstaking  western  method  that,  to 
the  Japanese  eye,  leaves  as  little  to  the  imagination  as 
the  photograph  itself. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 
GOLDEN     DAYS 


Nammikawa,  the  first  cloisonni  artist  of  the  world,  has 
his  home,  his  workshop,  and  his  little  garden  in  a  quiet 
corner  of  the  Awata  district.  Most  visitors  never  pass 
beyond  his  ante-room,  as  Nammikawa  holds  his  privacy 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

dear,  and  that  small  alcove  with  the  black  table  gives  lit- 
tle hint  of  what  lies  beyond.  The  more  fortunate  visitor 
follows  the  master  through  a  dark  recess  to  a  large  room 
with  two  sides  open  to  the  garden,  and  a  tiny  balcony 
overhanging  a  lakelet.  He  claps  his  hands,  and  big 
golden  carp  rise  to  the  surface  and  gobble  the  mochi 
thrown  them.  In  that  little  paradise,  barely  sixty  feet 
square,  are  hills,  groves,  thickets,  islands,  promontories, 
and  bays,  a  bamboo  -  shaded  well,  and  a  shrine,  while 
above  the  farthest  screen  of  foliage  rise  the  green  slopes 
of  Maruyama. 

A  Japanese  friend,  who  described  Nammikawa  as 
"  the  most  Japanese  and  most  interesting  man  in  Ki- 
oto," took  us  to  drink  tea  with  him  in  this  charming  gar- 
den, and,  on  the  hottest  afternoon  of  a  hot  Kioto  sum- 
mer, we  noted  neither  time  nor  temperature  until  the 
creeping  shadows  warned  us  to  depart.  Old  Japan  seem- 
ed to  re-live  in  the  atmosphere  of  that  garden,  and  a  cha 
no  yu  was  no  more  finished  than  the  simple  tea-ceremo- 
ny the  master  performed  there.  By  the  old  etiquette  a 
Japanese  gentleman  never  intrusted  to  any  servant  the 
making  of  tea  for  a  guest,  nor  allowed  the  fine  art  of 
that  simple,  every-day  process  to  be  exercised  unseen. 
The  tea-tray,  brought  and  set  before  the  master,  bore  a 
tiny  jewel-like  tea-pot  of  old  Awata,  and  the  tiny  cloi- 
sonne cups  with  plain  enamelled  linings  were  as  richly 
colored  as  the  circle  of  a  tulip's  petals,  and  smaller  far. 
With  them  was  a  small  pear-shaped  dish,  not  unlike  our 
gravy-boats,  a  beautiful  bronze  midzii  tsugi,  or  hot-water 
pot,  and  a  lacquer  box  holding  a  metal  tea-caddy  filled 
with  the  finest  leaves  from  Uji  tea-gardens.  Taking  a 
scoop  of  yellowed  ivory,  carved  in  the  shape  of  a  giant 
tea-leaf,  our  host  filled  the  little  tea-pot  with  loosely- 
heaped  leaves,  and  having  decanted  the  hot  water  into 
the  little  pear-shaped  pitcher  to  cool  a  little,  poured  it 
upon   the   tea  -  leaves.     Immediately  he    drew   off   the 


Golden  Days 

palest  amber  fluid,  half  filling  each  cup,  and  presented 
them  to  us,  resting  on  leaf-shaped  stands  or  saucers  of 
damascened  metal.  The  tea  was  only  lukewarm  when 
we  received  it,  but  as  delicate  and  exquisitely  flavored  as 
if  distilled  of  violets,  as  rich  and  smooth  as  a  syrup,  the 
three  sips  of  it  constituting  a  most  powerful  stimulant. 
In  the  discussion  of  tea-making  that  followed,  our  Jap- 
anese mentor  explained  to  us  that  to  the  epicurean 
tea-drinkers  of  his  country,  boiling  water  was  an  abom- 
ination, as  it  scorched  the  leaves,  drove  out  the  fine 
fragrance  in  the  first  cloud  of  steam,  and  extracted  the 
bitterness  instead  of  the  sweetness  of  the  young  leaves. 
"  It  may  be  well  enough  to  pour  boiling  water  on  the 
coarse  black  tea  of  China's  wild  shrub,"  said  this  delight- 
ful Japanese,  "  but  the  delicate  leaf  of  ^«r  cultivated  tea- 
plant  does  not  need  it." 

With  the  tea  our  host  offered  us  large  flat  wafers  of 
rice  and  fancy  confections  in  the  shape  of  most  elab- 
orate asters  and  chrysanthemums,  too  artistic  to  be  eat- 
en without  compunction.  The  cups  were  refilled  with 
the  second  and  stronger  decoction,  which  set  every  nerve 
tingling,  and  then  only  were  we  permitted  to  see  the 
treasures  of  Nammikawa's  creation.  From  box  and 
silken  bag  within  bag  were  produced  vases,  whose  lines, 
color,  lustre,  and  brilliant  intricacy  of  design  made  them 
beautiful  beyond  praise.  They  were  wrought  over  with 
finest  traceries  of  gold,  silver,  and  copper  wires,  on 
grounds  of  dull  Naples  yellow,  soft  yellowish-green,  a 
darker  green,  or  a  rich  deep-red,  wonderful  to  behold, 
the  polished  surface  as  even  and  flawless  as  that  of  a 
fine  onyx. 

One  by  one  some  smaller  pieces  were  brought  in,  in 
little  boxes  of  smooth  white  pine,  beautifully  made 
and  joined.  Nammikawa  opened  first  the  cotton  wad- 
ding, then  the  inevitable  wrapping  of  yellow  cloth,  and 
lastly  the  silken  covers,  and  handled  with  a  tender  rev- 

187 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

erence  these  exquisite  creations  of  his  genius,  every  one 
ot  which,  when  placed  on  its  low  teak-wood  stand,  showed 
faultless.  For  two  years  his  whole  force  was  at  work  on 
the  two  sixteen-inch  vases  which  went  to  the  Paris  Ex- 
position, and  four  years  were  given  to  the  Emperor's 
order  for  a  pair  for  his  new  palace.  These  bore  the 
imperial  emblems,  and  dragons  writhed  between  chrys- 
anthemums and  through  conventional  flower-circles  and 
arabesques,  and  the  groundwork  displayed  the  splendid 
red,  green,  russet,  mottled  gold,  and  glistening  avanturine 
enamels,  whose  secret  Nammikawa  holds.  For  it  is  not 
only  in  his  fine  designs,  but  in  the  perfect  composition 
and  fusing  of  his  enamels  and  the  gem-like  polish  that 
this  great  artist  excels  all  rivals. 

In  another  garden,  concealed  by  a  bamboo  hedge,  is 
the  tiny  laboratory,  and  the  one  work-room  where  less 
than  twenty  people,  all  told,  execute  the  master's  de- 


IN    NAMMIKAWA  S   WORK-ROOM 


Golden  Days 

signs.  One  etches  these  patterns  on  the  copper  base, 
following  Nammikawa's  delicately  traced  outlines ;  an- 
other bends  and  fastens  the  wires  on  the  etched  lines, 
and  a  third  coats  the  joinings  with  a  red  oxide  that,  after 
firing,  unites  the  wires  more  firmly  to  the  copper.  Oth- 
ers dot  the  paste  into  the  cell-like  spaces,  or  sit  over  tubs 
of  water,  grinding  with  fine  stones,  with  charcoal,  and 
deer-horn  the  surface  of  the  pieces  that  have  been  fired. 
Nammikawa  adds  the  master-touches,  and  after  conduct- 
ing the  final  firing,  himself  gives  them  the  last  incompar- 
able polish,  after  his  men  have  rubbed  away  for  weeks. 
These  workmen  come  and  go  as  they  please,  working 
only  when  the  spirit  moves  them,  and  doing  better  work, 
the  master  believes,  when  thus  left  to  their  own  devices. 
All  of  them  are  artists  whose  skill  is  a  family  inheritance, 
and  they  have  been  with  Nammikawa  for  many  years. 
The  most  skilful  of  these  craftsmen  receive  one  yen  a 
day,  which  is  extravagant  pay  in  this  land  of  simple  liv- 
ing, and  shows  in  what  high  esteem  they  are  held.  A 
few  women  are  employed  in  the  polishing  and  the  sim- 
pler details,  and,  while  we  watched  them,  were  burnish- 
ing a  most  exquisite  tea-pot  covered  with  a  fine  foliated 
design  on  pale  yellow  ground.  This  treasure  had  been 
bought  by  some  connoisseur  while  the  first  rough  filling 
of  paste  was  being  applied,  and  he  had  bided  his  time 
for  a  twelvemonth,  while  the  slow  processes  of  filling  and 
refilling  the  cells,  and  firing  and  refiring  the  paste  had 
succeeded  one  another  until  it  was  ready  for  the  first 
grinding. 

Fifty  or  sixty  small  pieces,  chiefly  vases,  caskets,  and 
urns,  three  and  four  inches  high,  and  ranging  in  price 
from  thirty  to  ninety  yen  each,  are  a  whole  year's  output, 
and  larger  pieces  are  executed  by  special  order  at  the 
same  time  with  these.  Nammikawa  does  not  like  to  sell 
to  the  trade,  and  has  been  known  to  refuse  the  requests 
of  curio  merchants,  making  his  customers  pay  more  if  he 

T  S89 


yinrikisha  Days  in   Japan 

suspects  that  they  are  buying  to  sell  again.  It  is  his 
delight  to  hand  the  precious  article  to  its  new  owner,  en- 
joining him  to  keep  it  wrapped  in  silk  and  wadding,  and 
always  to  rub  it  carefully  to  remove  any  moisture  before 
putting  it  away.  He  cautions  visitors,  when  they  attempt 
to  handle  the  precious  pieces  in  his  show-room,  not  to 
touch  the  enamelled  surface  with  the  hand,  the  metal 
base  and  collar  being  left  free  on  each  piece  for  that 
purpose.  Nor  must  two  pieces  of  cloisonne  ever  be  knock- 
ed together,  as  the  enamel  is  almost  more  brittle  than 
porcelain.  Curiously  enough,  this  great  artist  uses  no 
mark  nor  sign-manual.  "  If  my  work  will  not  declare  it- 
self to  be  mine,  then  the  marking  will  do  no  good,"  he 
says ;  and,  indeed,  his  cloisonne  is  so  unlike  the  crude 
and  commonplace  enamels  exported  from  Japan  by  ship- 
loads for  the  foreign  market,  that  it  does  not  need  the 
certification  of  his  name. 

Nammikawa  has  the  face  of  a  saint,  or  poet — gentle, 
refined,  and  intellectual — and  his  beautiful  manner  and 
perfect  courtesy  are  an  inheritance  of  the  old  Japan. 
His  earlier  days  were  not  saintly,  although  they  may 
have  been  poetical.  He  was  a  personal  attendant  of 
Prince  Kund  no  Miya,  a  brother  of  Prince  Komatsu,  and 
cousin  of  the  Emperor,  and  was  brought  up  in  the  old 
court  life  with  its  atmosphere  of  art  and  leisure.  The 
elegant  young  courtier  was  noted  for  his  gayety  and  im- 
providence. He  remained  in  Kioto  when  the  court  moved 
northward,  and  all  at  once  ceased  his  dissipations,  even 
putting  aside  his  pipe,  to  devote  himself  to  experiments 
in  the  manufacture  of  cloisonne,  for  which  he  had  always 
had  a  passion.  In  his  laboratory  there  is  a  square 
placque,  a  bluish  bird  on  a  white  ground  diapered  with 
coarse  wires,  which  was  his  first  piece.  One  can  hardly 
believe  that  only  fifteen  years  intervene  between  this 
coarse,  almost  Chinese,  specimen  of  his  work,  and  the 
vases  for  the  Emperor's  palace.    From  the  start  he  threw 


Golden  Days 

himself  into  his  profession  with  his  whole  soul  and  spirit. 
Incessant  experiments  in  the  solitude  of  his  laboratory 
and  work-room  at  night,  and  the  zeal  and  patience  of  a 
Palissy  at  the  furnace,  conquered  his  province.  He  is 
still  constantly  studying  and  experimenting,  and  always 
fires  his  pieces  himself,  keeping  long  vigils  by  the  little 
kiln  in  the  garden. 

Hurry  and  money-making  he  despises.  Gazing  dream- 
ily out  into  his  garden,  Nammikawa  declared  that  he  had 
no  ambition  to  have  a  large  godown,  a  great  workshop, 
and  a  hundred  workmen  ;  that  he  always  refused  to  take 
any  large  commissions  or  commercial  orders,  or  to  promise 
a  piece  at  any  given  time.  Neither  good  art  nor  good 
work  can  be  commanded  by  money,  he  thought,  nor  did 
he  want  his  men  to  work  faster,  and  therefore  less  care- 
fully, because  greater  prices  are  offered  him  for  haste. 
It  was  his  pleasure,  he  said,  to  take  years  for  the  execu- 
tion of  a  single  piece  that  might  stand  flawless  before 
all  connoisseurs,  and  receive  its  just  reward  of  praise  or 
medals.  The  latter  are  dearer  to  him  than  any  sum  of 
money,  and  in  his  own  garden  he  finds  happiness  with 
them. 

There  is  a  Nammikawa  of  Tokio  who  is  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  this  Kioto  artist.  The  Tokio  enameller 
has  an  entirely  different  style,  a  simple  design  thrown  in 
a  broad  style  upon  an  unbroken  groundwork,  easily  dis- 
tinguishing his  work  from  any  other ;  but  Nammikawa 
of  Tokio  deals  directly  with  the  trade,  even  contracting 
with  foreign  curio  dealers  for  seasons  of  work,  and  makes 
replicas  of  his  exquisite  pieces  by  the  score  for  them. 
Imitators  of  his  style  have  arisen,  and  already  many 
cheap  pieces,  copying  his  best  models,  can  be  purchased 
in  foreign  cities. 

The  idling  most  delightful  of  all  in  Kioto  is  going 
over  and  over  again  to  the  same  places,  doing  the  same 
thing  repeatedly,  and  arriving  at  that  happy  and  emi- 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

nently  Japanese  frame  of  mind  where  haste  enters  not ; 
time  is  forgotten,  days  slip  by  uncounted,  and  limits 
cease  to  be.  The  spring  days,  when  the  rain  falls  in 
gauziest  mist — the  rain  that  is  so  good  for  young  rice — 
or  summer  days,  when  the  sun  scorches  the  earth  and 
burns  one's  very  eyeballs,  seem  to  bring  the  most  un- 
broken leisure  and  longest  hours  in  any  agreeable  refuge. 

Sitting  on  Yaami's  veranda,  with  the  great  plain  of 
the  city  wreathed  in  mists  or  quivering  in  heat,  I  have 
recognized  my  indebtedness  to  Griffis,  Dresser,  Mitford, 
Morse,  and  Rein,  those  authorities  on  all  things  Japan- 
ese, not  to  mention  Murray  and  his  ponderous  guide- 
"book,  whose  weight  and  polysyllabic  pages  strike  terror 
to  the  soul  of  the  new-comer.  Griffis  I  read,  until  Tairo 
and  Minamoto,  Hideyoshi  and  lyeyasu,  grew  as  familiar 
as  William  the  Conqueror  and  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence ;  Dresser's  text  and  illustrations  were  a  con- 
stant delight  and  illumination,  explaining  the  incompre- 
hensible and  pointing  to  hidden  things ;  and  Morse's 
Japatiese  Homes  laid  bare  their  mysteries,  and  made  ev- 
ery fence,  roof,  rail,  ceiling,  and  wall  take  on  new  feat- 
ures and  expression.  Rein's  is  the  encyclopaedia,  and 
he  the  recorder,  from  whose  statements  there  is  no  ap- 
peal, and  to  him  we  turned  for  everything.  It  is  only 
on  the  sacred  soil  that  the  student  gets  the  true  value 
and  meaning  of  these  books ;  while  nothing  so  nearly 
expresses  and  explains  the  charm  of  the  country  as  that 
prose  idyl,  Percival  Lowell's  Soul  of  the  Far  East,  nor  so 
perfectly  fits  one's  moods  on  these.long,  leisure  days,  and 
Mitford's  Tales  of  Old  Japan  are  of  ceaseless  delight. 

In  this  Japanese  atmosphere  the  traveller  feels  what 
he  misses  through  his  ignorance  of  the  vernacular,  and 
is  even  inspired  with  a  desire  to  study  the  language ;  but 
a  little  skimming  of  the  grammar  usually  brings  down 
that  vaulting  ambition.  It  is  easy  to  pick  up  words  and 
phrases  for  ordinary  use,  as  all  servants  understand  some 

292 


Golden  Days 

English,  and  every  hotel  and  shop  has  its  interpreter. 
Upper-class  people,  whom  one  meets  socially,  always 
speak  English,  French,  or  German.  Scholars  declare 
that  the  mastery  of  the  language  takes  from  twelve  to 
thirty  years,  and  the  compiler  of  the  standard  lexicon 
modestly  says  for  himself  that  forty  years  is  not  enough. 
With  a  few  most  illustrious  exceptions,  no  foreigner,  who 
has  not  learned  Japanese  almost  before  his  own  tongue, 
has  ever  been  able  to  grasp  its  idioms  so  as  to  express 
himself  with  clearness  and  accuracy.  The  whole  theory 
and  structure  of  the  language  are  so  different  from  and 
so  opposed  to  European  speech— so  intricate  and  so  ar- 
bitrary, that  the  alien  brain  fails  to  grasp  it.  The  lower, 
middle,  and  upper  classes  have  each  a  different  mode  of 
expression,  and  the  women  of  each  class  use  a  still  sim- 
pler version.  He  who  learns  the  court  language  cannot 
make  himself  understood  by  shop-keepers  or  servants. 
He  who  has  acquired  coolie  talk  insults  a  gentleman  by 
uttering  its  common  words  and  inelegant  expressions  in 
his  presence. 

As  if  the  differences  between  the  polite  and  the  com- 
mon idioms  and  names  for  things  did  not  make  verbal 
complications  enough,  the  imperial  family  and  their  sat- 
ellites have  a  still  finer  phraseology  with  a  special  vocab- 
ulary for  their  exclusive  use.  Sak^,  or  rice  brandy,  be- 
comes kukon  at  court ;  a  dumpling,  which  is  a  dango  in 
the  city,  becomes  an  ishi-ishi  when  it  enters  the  palace- 
gates  ;  and  a  shirt,  ox  jubati,  is  transmuted  to  a  heijo  on 
an  imperial  back.  Well-bred  women  say  o  hiya  for  cold 
water,  and  men  always  call  it  mizu.  A  dog  not  only  gets 
the  honorific  prefix  <?,  but  if  you  call  him,  you  say  polite- 
ly 0  idf,  just  as  you  would  to  a  child  ;  while  the  impera- 
tive koi  f  koil  (come,  come,)  is  polite  enough  for  the  rest 
of  the  brute  creation.  Children  say  umamma  for  food, 
but  if  you  do  not  say  omamma  instead,  nesans  will  gig- 
gle over  your  baby  talk. 

193 


Jinrikisha  Days  m   Japan 

Dialects  and  localisms  contribute  still  further  to  con- 
fusion of  tongues.  A  hibachi  in  Kioto  is  a  shibachi  in 
Yokohama,  as  a  Hirado  vase  is  a  Shirado  one.  When 
you  inquire  a  price,  you  say  ikura  for  "  how  much  "  in 
Yokohama,  and  nambo  in  Kioto.  All  around  Tokio  the 
g  has  the  sound  of  ng,  or  gamma  nasal,  and  this  nasal 
tone  of  the  capital  is  another  point  of  conformity  with 
the  modern  French. 

Everywhere  in  Japan  an  infinity  of  names  belongs  to 
the  simplest  things.  Twenty-five  synonyms  for  rice  are 
given  in  Hepburn's  smaller  dictionary,  all  as  different  as 
possible.  Rice  in  every  stage  of  growing,  and  in  every 
condition  after  harvesting,  has  a  distinct  name,  with  no 
root  common  to  all.  Endless  mistakes  follow  any  inex- 
actness of  pronunciation.  The  numerals,  ichi,  ni,  san,  shi, 
go,  roku,  shichi,  hachi,  ku,  Ju,  are  easily  memorized,  and 
learning  to  count  up  to  one  hundred  is  child's  play  com- 
pared to  the  struggle  with  French  numerals.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  say  "four  times  twenty,  ten,  and  seven,"  be- 
fore ninety-seven  is  reckoned ;  that  is  simply  ku  jii  shichi, 
or  nine  tens  and  a  seven.  Twenty  is  ni  ju,  thirty  is  san 
ju,  fifty  is  go  ju,  and  so  through  the  list.  The  ordinal 
numbers  have  dai  prefixed  or  ban  added,  and  "fourth"  is 
then  yo  ban.  That  ichi  ban  means  "number  one,"  and  ni 
ban,  "number  two,"  surprises  people  who  had  supposed 
that  Mr.  Ichi  Ban  and  Mr.  Ni  Ban  owned  the  great  Japan- 
ese stores  that  used  to  exist  in  two  American  cities.  After 
learning  the  plain  cardinal  and  ordinal  numbers,  the  neo- 
phyte must  remember  to  add  the  syllable  shiki  when 
mentioning  any  number  of  animals,  nin  for  people,  ken 
for  houses,  so  for  ships,  cho  for  jinrikishas,  hai  for  glasses 
or  cups  of  any  liquid,  hon  for  long  and  round  objects,  mai 
for  broad  and  flat  ones,  tsu  for  letters  or  papers,  satsu  for 
books,  wa  for  bundles  or  birds.  Any  infraction  of  these 
rules  gives  another  meaning  to  the  intended  phrase,  and 
the  slightest  variation  in  inflection  changes  it  quite  as 


Golden  Days 

much.  If  you  want  three  kurumas,  you  say  "  kuruma  san 
cho"  and  five  plates  are  '■'■  sara  go  tnaiy  To  say  simply 
saiyo  (yes),  or  tye  (no),  is  inadmissible.  The  whole  state- 
ment must  be  made  with  many  flourishes,  and  frequent 
de  gozarimasus  adorn  a  gentleman's  conversation. 

If  a  curio  dealer  asks  whether  you  wish  to  see  a  koro, 
and  you  look  for  the  word  in  the  lexicon,  you  find  that 
koro  means,  according  to  Dr.  Hepburn's  dictionary,  time, 
period  of  time,  a  cylindrical  wooden  roller  used  in  moving 
heavy  bodies,  the  elders,  old  people,  tiger  and  wolf,  i.e., 
savage  and  cruel,  stubborn,  bigoted,  narrow-minded,  a 
road,  a  journey,  a  censer  for  burning  incense,  and  the  sec- 
ond or  third  story  of  a  house.  So,  too,  kikii  may  mean  a 
chrysanthemum,  or  a  compass  and  square,  a  rule,  an 
established  custom,  the  moment  or  proper  time;  fear,  ti- 
midity, and  a  score  of  other  things.  The  chief  compensa- 
tions of  the  language  are  its  simple  and  unvarying  rules 
of  pronunciation,  every  syllable  being  evenly  accented, 
every  vowel  making  a  syllable,  and,  pronounced  as  con- 
tinental vowels  are,  giving  music  to  every  word. 

The  written  language  is  the  study  of  another  lifetime. 
Having  the  Chinese  written  language  as  its  basis,  the 
Chinese,  Japanese,  and  Koreans  can  all  understand  one 
another  in  this  form  common  to  all,  though  not  in  the 
spoken  tongue.  It  is  common  to  see  Chinese  and  Jap- 
anese coolies  writing  characters  in  the  air,  in  the  dust,  or 
in  the  palms  of  their  hands,  and  seeming  to  make  them- 
selves intelligible  in  this  classical  sign  language.  The 
written  language  has  the  katagana,  or  square  characters, 
and  the  hiragana,  or  "grass"  characters,  the  latter  sim- 
pler and  more  nearly  corresponding  to  our  script  or  run- 
ning hand. 

The  efforts  of  scholars  are  now  turned  to  Romaicising 
or  transliterating  the  Japanese  sounds  and  characters, 
and  expressing  them  by  the  common  alphabet  of  Latin 
and  Anglo-Saxon  people,  basing  it  on  phonetic  spelling. 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

Volapuk,  the  new  universal  language  of  all  nations,  offers 
great  difficulties  to  the  Japanese,  for  although  Schleyer, 
its  inventor,  kindly  left  out  the  r,  which  the  Chinese  can- 
not pronounce,  he  left  in  the  /,  which  is  a  corresponding 
stumbling-block  for  the  Japanese,  who  is  seldom  a  natural 
linguist. 


CHAPTER   XXX 
SENKE   AND   THE    MERCHANTS'    DINNER 

It  required  an  elaborate  negotiation  extending  through 
two  weeks,  as  well  as  the  tactful  aid  of  an  officer  of  the 
Kioto  Kencho  to  arrange  for  me  a  cha  no  yu  at  the  house 
of  Senke,  the  great  master  of  the  oldest  school  of  that 
art.  Senke  was  about  going  to  Uji  to  choose  his  teas ; 
he  was  changing  his  teas;  he  was  airing  his  godowns,  and 
he  sent  a  dozen  other  excuses  to  prevent  his  naming  a 
day.  Not  until  it  had  been  explained  fully  to  this  great 
high-priest  of  the  solemnity  that  I  had  studied  cha  no 
yu  with  his  pupil,  Matsuda,  and  that,  knowing  that  Mat- 
suda  had  first  studied  the  Hori  no  ^'/-method,  I  was  pur- 
suing the  art  to  its  fountain-head,  to  make  sure  that  no 
heterodox  version  of  the  Senke  method  had  betrayed  my 
inexperience,  would  he  consent  to  receive  me. 

Senke  is  a  descendant  of  Rikiu,  the  instructor  and 
friend  of  Hideyoshi,  the  Taiko.  For  years  they  prac- 
tised the  "  outward  "  rites  together,  and  wrote  poems  to 
one  another,  until  Hideyoshi  admired  Rikiu's  beautiful 
daughter.  Rikiu  refused  her  to  him,  and  estrangement 
followed.  Rikiu  had  built  a  splendid  gate-way  for  the 
Daitokuji  temple,  within  which,  as  was  the  fashion  of  the 
time,  he  had  placed  a  small  wooden  statue  of  himself. 
Taiko  Sama,  riding  through  with  his  train  one  day,  was 

296 


Senki  and  the  Merchants'  Dinner 

told  of  the  statue  overhead.  He  declared  it  an  insult  to 
him,  the  Shogun,  and  sent  to  Rikiu  the  fateful  short  sword, 
the  wakazashi,  and  the  great  master  died  the  honorable 
death  of  seppuku,  or  hara  kiri. 

"And  the  daughter?  Did  the  Taiko  get  her  after  Ri- 
kiu's  death  ?"  we  asked,  as  we  sat  waiting  in  Senke"s 
garden,  listening  to  the  many  histories  connected  with  the 
place.  "  Wakarhnasen  "  (I  do  not  know),  said  our  friend, 
with  that  Japanese  indifference  to  the  end  of  a  story  that 
so  perplexes  the  western  mind. 

Senkd  has  a  lovely  garden  beyond  the  palace  walls,  and 
reached  by  deserted  streets^whose  blank  walls  shelter 
aristocratic  homes.  Crossing  a  court,  we  crept  through 
a  small  door  in  a  large  gate-way  and  entered  this  retreat, 
whose  floor  was  all  irregular  stones,  covered  evenly  with 
a  soft,  velvety,  green  moss.  Upon  this  verdant  surface 
fell  dappled  shadows  and  an  occasional  ray  of  sunshine 
from  a  canopy  of  maple,  cherry,  and  pine  branches,  care- 
fully clipped  and  trained  so  as  to  form  an  even  tent-roof 
over  the  whole  enclosure.  The  stillness  was  unbroken, 
though  upon  this  strange  paradise  looked  out  a  dozen 
exquisitely  simple  tea-rooms,  each  isolated  and  sheltered 
from  the  view  of  any  other.  Pupils  come  to  Senke  from 
all  parts  of  Japan,  but  even  when  every  tea-room  is  in 
use  the  same  hush  reigns.  To  subdue  us  to  what  we 
were  to  work  in,  and  to  enhance  Fortune's  supreme  fa- 
vor of  a  cha  no  yu  in  the  Taiko's  manner,  we  were  made 
to  wait  and  wait  before  we  were  invited  into  the  cool 
twilight  of  a  large  tea-room.  The  house  has  been  burn- 
ed twice  since  Hideyoshi's  day,  but  each  time  has  been 
exactly  reproduced,  so  that  virtually  we  sat  where  the 
Taiko  had  sat  for  many  hours,  and  we  used  the  verita- 
ble bowls,  spoons,  trays,  and  tea-caddies  sanctified  by 
his  touch  three  hundred  years  ago.  The  Taiko's  crest 
was  on  the  simple,  gold  flecked  screens  of  the  room,  and 
an  autograph  verse  on  a  kakemono,  and  a  single  pink 

a97 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

lily  in  a  bronze  vase,  were  the  ornaments  of  the  toko- 
noma. 

Senke,  now  past  seventy  years  of  age,  receives  few 
pupils  himself,  but  neither  he"  nor  his  handsome  son  of 
about  thirty  years  is  wholly  incurious  as  to  the  strange 
fashions  that  have  entered  the  country  since  the  Res- 
toration. We  bowed  with  the  profound  solemnity  of 
mourners,  but  with  the  vigilance  of  spies  we  watched 
Senke  as  he  built  the  fire,  laid  on  the  white  azalea  char- 
coal, dropped  some  chips  of  sandal-wood,  and  boiled  his 
historic  iron  kettle.  Then  followed  the  feast  of  many 
delicate  dishes— tea;  bean-soup,  with  bits  of  egg-plant; 
raw  fish  with  shreds  of  daikon  and  fresh  ginger;  tai- 
soup,  with  sea -weed  and  mushrooms;  broiled  ai,  with 
shoyu ;  bamboo  -  soup ;  dried  Shikoku  salmon  ;  broiled 
birds ;  Kaga  walnuts,  preserved  in  a  thick  syrup,  and 
other  dishes ;  each  course  accompanied  by  rice,  and 
ending  with  barley-water.  An  old  iron  sake -pot  and 
.shallow  red  lacquer  sake -cups  were  passed  around  with 
the  various  dishes,  and  we  gravely  pledged  one  another 
and  the  master  who  served  us.  When  the  dried  fish  was 
brought  in  my  Kencho  friend  nipped  off  some  choice 
bits  with  his  chop  sticks  and  offered  them  on  a  paper  to 
our  host,  who  ate  them,  and  put  the  paper  in  his  sleeve. 
At  the  end  of  the  feast  the  first  guest — the  one  sitting 
nearest  the  tokonoma — wiped  all  his  bowls  and  dishes 
clean  with  paper,  which  he  put  in  his  sleeve,  and  we  fol- 
lowed his  example.  With  the  thirteenth  course  we  gath- 
ered up  our  tray  of  sweets  and  retired  to  the  garden, 
waiting  there  until  soft  strokes  on  an  old  bell  called  us 
back  to  the  r-oom,  which  had  been  swept,  and  the  pict- 
ure and  vase  in  the  tokonoma  changed.  Senke,  too,  had 
replaced  his  dark  gauze  kimono  by  one  of  pale -blue 
crape,  and  sat  in  a  reverent  attitude.  With  infinite  de- 
liberation he  went  through  the  solemn  rites,  and  duly 
presented  us  each  with  a  bowl  of  green  gruel  more  bitter 

298 


Senki  and  the  Merchants*  Dinner 

than  quinine,  twelve  spoonfuls  of  powdered  tea  being 
the  measure  used.  This  was  his  koi  cha.  The  usu  cha 
was  a  less  strong  decoction,  demanding  a  simpler  cere- 
mony, and  was  served  in  a  bowl  passed  around  for  all  to 
sip  from  in  turn.  Previous  study  enabled  us  to  note  in- 
telligently every  movement  of  the  old  master,  and  the 
significant  position  of  each  thumb  and  finger,  hand,  el- 
bow, and  wrist,  as  the  venerable  artist  of  cha  no  yu  ex- 
emplified the  grace  and  niceties  of  the  "  outward " 
school. 

At  the  proper  time  we  asked  the  history  of  the  imple- 
ments used  in  the  ceremony.  The  na  tsume,  or  tea- 
bowl  of  Raku  ware,  in  Jo-o  shape,  belonged  to  Rikiu, 
Jo-o  having  been  the  teacher  of  Rikiu,  and  the  arbiter 
of  the  form  of  many  implements  of  cha  no  yu.  The 
little  bamboo  slip  with  a  flat,  curved  end,  which  lifted 
the  powdered  tea  from  its  box,  was  cut  by  Rikiu.  It 
bears  no  decoration  or  mark,  and  is  of  the  ordinary 
shape ;  but  this  commonplace  c/ia  shaku  cannot  be  bought 
for  even  two  hundred  dollars.  The  Emperor  Komei, 
father  of  the  present  Emperor,  was  taught  by  the  elder 
Senk^,  and  bequeathed  to  his  master  various  autographs 
and  an  incense-box  of  great  antiquity.  Driven  though 
he  is  by  the  spirit  of  innovation  and  progress,  the  pres- 
ent Emperor  occasionally  enjoys  a  few  quiet  hours  at 
cha  no  yu.  The  Empress  is  most  accomplished  in  its 
ceremonial,  and  delights  in  the  little  poems  which  guests 
are  always  expected  to  write  for  the  host. 

When  the  moment  arrived  for  the  production  of  these 
tributes  at  Senke's  tea,  our  Japanese  friends  dashed 
them  off  in  an  instant,  as  if,  with  the  return  to  their  cer- 
emonial silk  gowns,  they  had  returned  to  the  habits  of 
thought  of  old  Japan,  when  poetry  filled  the  air.  But 
one  of  them  whispered,  to  encourage  us,  "  I  have  been 
thinking  it  these  two  weeks." 

With  regret  we  saw  cha  ire  (tea-caddy),  cha  wan  (tea- 

399 


Jinrtkisha  Days  in  yapan 

bowl),  cha  sen  (tea -whisk),  and  cha  shaku  (teaspoon), 
tied  up  in  their  precious  brocade  bags,  and,  with  pro- 
found obeisances,  we  took  leave  of  Senke,  feeling  that 
for  a  day  we  had  slipped  out  of  our  century,  and  almost 
out  of  our  planet,  so  unlike  is  the  cha  no  yu  to  any  other 
function  in  this  irreverent,  practical,  and  pushing  era. 

Of  our  friend,  who  had  drained  two  or  three  bowls  of 
it,  we  asked,  "  Does  not  this  strong  tea  make  you  nerv- 
ous, keep  you  awake,  give  you  the  cha  ni  yotta,  or  tea 
tremens  ?" 

"  Oh  no,"  he  answered ;  "  I  do  not  drink  enough  of 
it.  I  am  very  careful.  But  my  friends,  when  they  be- 
gin the  study  of  English  and  foreign  branches,  find  that 
they  must  stop  drinking  it.  The  English  seems  to  bring 
into  action  many  nerves  that  we  do  not  use,  and  the 
drink  is  probably  exciting  enough  in  itself." 

Foreign  teachers  say  the  same  thing,  and  at  the  Do- 
shisha  school  tobacco  must  be  given  up,  though,  next  to 
tea,  it  is  the  great  necessity  of  the  Japanese. 

Kioto's  maiko  and  geisha  performances  are,  of  course, 
more  splendid  than  those  of  any  other  city.  The  great 
training-school  of  maiko  conforms  to  the  classic  tradi- 
tions, and  critics  and  connoisseurs  assemble  at  the  Ka- 
burenjo  theatre  each  spring  when  the  famous  Kioto 
dance,  the  Miakodori,  is  given  by  troops  of  maiko. 

Did  I  not  possess  the  ocular  proof  of  a  fan  and  a  few 
souvenirs  I  could  believe  the  fete  which  I  saw  to  have 
been  but  a  midsummer  night's  dream.  A  club  of  the 
great  merchants  of  the  city,  wishing  to  do  honor  to  two 
Tokio  officials,  devised  a  dinner,  or  geisha  party,  and  in- 
cluded their  American  friends.  The  evening  was  one  of 
the  heaviest,  hottest,  and  sultriest  of  the  Kioto  summer, 
and,  after  the  sun  sank  in  a  bed  of  mist,  swarmed  with 
myriads  of  mosquitoes.  Later,  the  full  moon  poured 
down  a  flood  of  silvery  light  that  seemed  to  quiver  with 
heat,  yet,  apparelled  in  our  uncomfortable  regulation  cos- 

300 


Senki  and  the  Merchants   Dinner 

tume,  we  found  our  way  through  the  lanes  to  the  dark 
gate-ways  of  Nishi  Otani's  long  approach.  The  broad 
stone  path  lay  marble-white  in  the  moonlight  between 
rows  of  gigantic  trees,  the  tall  stone  lanterns  looked  like 
ghostly  sentries,  and  fire-flies  floated  through  the  still,  hot 
darkness.  At  the  foot  of  the  avenue  a  line  of  red  lan- 
terns hung  glowing  and  motionless  in  mid -air,  like  so 
many  strange  fruits  on  the  black  branches.  When  we 
passed  into  the  open,  moonlighted  court  of  the  Gion 
temple  and  under  its  giant  torii,  we  were  received  at  a 
wide  door-way  by  the  master  of  the  feast  and  the  whole 
tea-house  staff. 

Above  were  our  forty-four  hosts  of  the  evening,  among 
whom  were  the  court  brocade-weaver,  the  great  merchant 
of  painted  crapes,  the  maker  of  the  incomparable  enam- 
els, the  masters  of  the  great  potteries  and  bronze  works, 
and  a  few  artists.  We  bowed  three  or  four  times  to  each 
gentleman,  who  bowed  twice  as  often  to  us,  and  we  won- 
dered how  these  quiet,  grave,  and  gracious  hosts,  in  their 
rustling  garments  of  dark  striped  silks  and  their  white 
tahis,  could  look  so  cool  and  fresh. 

All  the  screens  of  the  upper  floor  had  been  taken  out, 
and  three  sides  of  the  room  were  open  to  the  night.  We 
were  conducted  to  seats  at  one  end,  the  company  grave- 
ly dropped  upon  the  cushions  ranged  along  either  side, 
and  the  master  of  ceremonies,  a  great  silk  merchant  and 
manufacturer,  made  a  formal  speeeh  of  welcome,  and 
begged  us  to  accept  the  poor  repast  they  were  about  to 
oflfer.  Every  one  bowed  three  times,  a  proper  response 
was  made,  we  all  bowed  again,  and  a  file  of  nesans  in 
dark  silk  gowns  brought  in  tiny  cups  of  tea.  Then  fol- 
lowed ten  of  the  most  famous  maiko  of  Kioto,  dazzling 
beauties,  who  advanced  noiselessly,  two  by  two,  in  ex- 
quisite kimonos  of  painted  crape  and  obis  of  woven 
sunshine,  and  with  coronals  of  silver  hairpins  on  their 
heads.     As  they  drew  near,  all  gliding  with  the  same 

301 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

slow  grace,  they  knelt  and  set  before  us  the  ozens,  or  low 
lacquer  tables,  holding  cups,  bowls,  chopsticks,  and  nap- 
kins. Two  tiny  maiko  then  entered  with  large  trays  of 
sweetmeats,  and  the  master  of  ceremonies  lifted  off  with 
his  chopsticks  and  set  before  us  sections  of  confection- 
ery—  waves  and  fan -tailed  goldfish,  an  impressionist 
sketch  in  sugar  of  rippling  water  filled  with  darting  fish. 
On  Nabeshima  and  Owari  plates,  and  in  lacquer  and  por- 
celain bowls,  were  served  innumerable  courses — soups, 
omelet,  lily  bulbs,  chicken,  small  birds,  jellies,  many  un- 
known and  delightful  dishes — ^and  with  each  remove, 
rice,  lifted  from  a  fine,  red-lined,  gold  lacquer  rice  box 
furnished  with  a  big  lacquer  spoon  worth  six  silver  ones. 
Tai,  the  sterlet  of  Japan,  the  arbitrary  accessory  of  any 
great  feast,  whose  curiously  shaped  bones  are  symbols 
of  hospitality  and  abundance,  was  accompanied  by  a 
peppery  salad,  and  followed  by  more  birds,  by  bamboo 
sprouts,  and  a  stew  of  beche-de-mer,  before  the  appearance 
of  the  piece  de  resistance. 

The  maiko  advanced  in  a  broad  line,  two  of  them 
bearing  a  large  tray  on  which  lay  a  magnificent  carp, 
still  breathing,  and  with  his  scales  shining  as  if  just 
drawn  from  the  water.  The  master  of  ceremonies  ad- 
vanced, and,  receiving  the  tray  from  the  maiko,  set  it 
on  the  mats  and  turned  it  slowly  around  for  all  to  be- 
hold. As  the  maiko  retired  all  leaned  forward  to  watch 
the  noble  carp,  as  it  lay  quivering  on  its  bed  of  moss 
and  cresses,  with  a  background  of  greenery  like  a  true 
Japanese  garden.  This  custom  of  serving  the  living  fish 
at  a  feast  is  a  survival  of  a  traditional  usage  that  for- 
eigners seldom  witness.  Morsels  of  the  fish  were  pres- 
ently lifted  from  its  back  and  passed  to  the  company. 
To  us  the  performance  was  a  kind  of  cannibalism  pos- 
sessing a  horrible  fascination,  but  the  epicures  uttered 
sounds  expressive  of  appreciation  as  they  lingered  over 
the  delicious  morsels.     A  sudden  jar  or  turning  of  the 


Senki  and  the  Merchants'  Dinner 

tray  made  the  carp  writhe,  and  left  upon  us  a  sense  of 
guilty  consent  and  connivance  which  lasted  for  days. 

Rice  and  eels  were  next  served,  another  soup,  more 
fowl,  and  then,  with  sponge-cake,  fruits,  and  additional 
cups  of  tea,  the  feast  concluded.  Centuries  ago  the 
Portuguese  taught  the  Japanese  to  make  sponge-cake, 
and  now  they  surpass  in  the  art  even  a  New  England 
house-keeper  with  "faculty."  With  each  course  there 
had  been  an  exchange  of  sak^-cups  and  the  drinking  of 
innumerable  healths,  with  amazing  elaboration  of  eti- 
quette. Each  guest  must  accept  the  proffered  pledge, 
extend  it  to  be  filled,  touch  the  forehead,  drink,  empty, 
and  return  it  to  the  giver,  that  he  may  repeat  the  same 
routine.  The  guests  in  their  rustling  garments  moved 
about  the  mats,  sitting  before  one  and  another  in  turn 
for  a  little  chat  and  an  exchange  of  sake-cups,  and  for- 
mal speeches  and  responses  were  made  as  well. 

Throughout  the  feast  the  geishas  twanged  the  koto 
and  the  samisen,  and  the  maiko  in  painted  crapes  and 
gorgeous  brocades  danced  with  choral  accompaniment. 
Their  broad  obis  were  tied  in  Osaka  fashion,  in  long 
butterfly  loops  that  spread  the  golden  and  glistening 
fabric  all  over  the  back  of  their  scant,  clinging  kimonos. 
These  lovely  young  creatures  slowly  posed,  through 
dance  after  dance,  bending,  swaying,  and  turning  with 
exquisite  grace,  moving  their  golden  fans  in  tjme  with 
the  wail  of  the  instruments  and  the  plaintive  burden  of 
the  song  explaining  the  pantomime.  It  was  a  strange 
scene — the  room,  open  to  the  summer  night,  hung  round 
with  crimson  lanterns  and  lighted  with  the  soft  glow 
from  the  tall  andons ;  the  lines  of  sitting  figures  in  their 
rich  silk  garments,  and  the  dark  faces  lost  in  reverie  as 
they  followed  the  mazes  of  the  golden-robed  dancers. 

After  the  dinner  and  between  their  dances  the  maiko 
seated  themselves  before  the  guests  to  entertain  them 
with  their  wit  and  badinage,  to  fill  the  sak6-cups,  and  to 

30J 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

let  the  company  admire  them.  Raiha  was  the  name  of 
one  demure  beauty,  who  inquired  of  us  which  one  of 
them  was  loveliest  according  to  our  foreign  standards. 
While  we  considered,  some  became  coquettish  and  full 
of  little  Japanese  airs  and  graces,  but  whatever  sparkle 
and  expression  they  threw  into  their  eyes,  the  meekest 
look  was  given  to  the  whole  face  by  the  broad  touch  of 
carmine  on  the  lower  lip.  The  final  decision  gave  Raiha 
three  of  the  foreign  votes,  and  the  one  dissenter  con- 
formed when  our  Japanese  friends  assured  him  that  she 
was  the  reigning  professional  beauty  of  Kioto.  And  we 
thought  her  shy,  distinguished  manners,  her  silver  thread 
of  a  voice,  and  her  demure  eyes  and  smiles  more  charm- 
ing even  than  her  lovely  face. 

At  midnight,  when  a  monastery  bell  was  softly  boom- 
ing from  the  mountain-slopes,  we  began  our  adieus. 
Nearly  one  hundred  and  forty  bows  were  to  be  made  by 
each  of  us,  for,  after  bowing  three  or  four  times  and  say- 
ing "  sayonara  "  to  each  of  our  hosts,  we  had  to  bid  adieu 
to  the  lovely  maikos  and  acknowledge  the  salutations  of 
the  tea-house  attendants.  When  we  sat  down  at  the 
door-way  to  have  our  shoes  put  on,  we  were  dizzy  enough 
to  be  grateful  for  the  fanning  that  the  tea-house  girls  be- 
stowed upon  us.  A  chorus  of  sayonaras  accompanied  us 
as  we  followed  the  coolies  with  their  long  lanterns  out 
through  the  torii  and  into  the  black  shadows  of  the  tem- 
ple grounds. 


CHAPTER   XXXI 
THROUGH   UJI   TO    NARA 


An  early  morning  start,  with  many  jinrikishas  and 
tandems  of  coolies  ;  a  wild  spin  through  the  streets,  past 
shops,  temple  gates  and  walls  ;  by  the  innumerable  toriis 
and  lanterns  forming  arches  and  vistas  in  the  groves  of 


Through  Uji  to  Nara 

Inari,  the  great  temple  of  the  fox-god,  and  we  came  out 
on  the  plain  beyond  Fushimi;  then  an  irregular,  hilly 
country,  green  with  ancient  pine  and  bamboo  groves, 
every  open  valley  and  hill -side  set  with  low,  green 
mounds  of  tea-bushes ;  sandy,  white  roads,  clear  rush- 
ing streams,  and  we  were  in  the  heart  of  Uji,  the  finest 
tea  district  of  Japan. 

Groups  of  bobbing  hats  beside  the  tea-bushes,  carts 
loaded  with  sacks  and  baskets  of  tea-leaves ;  trays  of 
toasting  tea- leaves  within  every  door -way,  a  delicate 
rose-like  fragrance  in  the  air ;  women  and  children  sort- 
ing the  crop  in  every  village ;  and  this  was  the  tea  sea- 
son in  its  height.  Here  were  bushes  two  and  three 
hundred  years  old  yielding  every  year  their  certain  har- 
vest, and  whole  hill-sides  covered  with  matted  awnings 
to  keep  from  scorching  or  toughening  in  the  hot  sun 
those  delicate  young  leaves,  which  are  destined  to  be- 
come the  costly  and  exquisite  teas  chosen  by  the  sov- 
ereign and  his  richest  subjects. 

Then  we  toiled  up  bush-covered  steeps  to  cross  ele- 
vated river-beds;  rode  through  towered  floodgates  of 
dry  watercourses,  down  to  the  green  plain  their  lost 
waters  had  fed ;  through  village  streets,  and  past  many 
a  picturesque  tateba,  in  one  of  which  stood  a  little  yel- 
low Cupid  in  the  sunshine  that  filtered  through  a  wis- 
taria trellis  ;  and  so  on  through  ever-changing  country 
scenes  to  the  famous  view  of  Nara's  temples,  trees,  and 
pagodas. 

Nara  !  A  mountain-side  covered  with  giant  trees  bound 
together  by  vines  and  old  creepers ;  an  ancient  forest 
seamed  with  broad  avenues,  where  the  sunlight  falls  in 
patches  and  deer  lie  drowsing  in  the  fern ;  double  and 
triple  lines  of  moss-covered  stone  lanterns  massing  them- 
selves together,  their  green  tops  dim  in  the  dense  shad- 
ow ;  temples  twelve  centuries  old ;  the  booming  of  bells, 
and  the  music  of  running  water. 

J07 


Jtnrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

Nara !  The  ancient  capital,  the  cradle  of  Buddhism, 
and  still  the  holy  place  of  pilgrimages ;  its  forest  paths 
echoing  the  jingle  of  the  devotees'  ringed  staffs,  the 
mutter  of  their  prayers,  and  the  clink  of  their  copper 
offerings  at  the  temple  gates.  A  place  of  stillness  and 
dreams ;  an  Arcadia,  where  the  little  children  and  the 
fawns  play  together,  and  the  antlered  deer  eat  from 
one's  hand,  and  look  up  fearlessly  with  their  soft  human 
eyes.  Old  Shinto  temples,  where  the  priestesses  dance 
the  sacred  measures  of  Suzume  before  the  Sun  Goddess's 
cave ;  temples  where  Buddha  and  Kwannon  sit  in  gild- 
ed glory  on  the  lotus,  and  lights,  incense,  and  bells  ac- 
company the  splendid  ceremonies  of  that  faith. 

The  great  antiquity  of  Nara  makes  the  magnificence 
of  Nikko,  with  its  Shogun's  tombs,  seem  almost  parvenu. 
It  is  the  good-fortune  of  the  older  fane  that  its  distance 
from  the  railroad — twenty-six  miles — saves  it  from  the 
rush  of  progress  and  the  stream  of  tourists. 

The  founder  of  Nara  rode  up  to  the  mountain  on  a 
deer  to  choose  a  residence  for  himself,  and  ever  since 
the  deer  have  been  petted  and  protected.  Groups  of 
them,  lying  under  the  trees,  permit  themselves  to  be  ad- 
mired, and  feeding  parties  turn  their  pretty  pointed 
heads  to  look  after  the  visitor.  The  does  and  fawns, 
however,  hide  in  the  dark  fern -covered  ravines.  All 
through  the  forest  and  temple  grounds  are  little  thatched 
houses,  where  tea  for  man  and  corn-meal  for  deer  are 
sold,  together  with  the  little  carved  images  and  deer-horn 
toys  for  which  Nara  is  famous.  It  is  a  pity  that  the 
Japanese  name  for  deer  is  such  a  harsh,  unmusical  word 
as  shika,  which  even  the  little  children,  who  toddle  after 
the  pretty  creatures  with  out-stretched  hands,  cannot  make 
musical.  Plump  little  country  maids,  wdth  their  tied-up 
sleeves,  are  heard  from  sunrise  until  dusk  calling  up  the 
deer  to  be  fed — ''Ko!  ko!  ko!  kof"  (Come !  come  !  come  I 
come  !)  and  at  the  word  "  Ko  "  even  the  fattest  and  heav- 

30? 


Through  Uji  to  Nam 

iest  stag  lumbers  forward  and  nibbles  from  their  hands. 
Moving  at  leisure!  these  deer  have  a  stiff,  wooden  gait, 
and  seem  badly-proportioned  animals.  It  is  when  one 
leaps  and  bounds  down  some  avenue,  or  across  a  clear- 
ing, that  it  shows  its  grace.  The  gentleness  of  these 
Nara  pets  is  due,  of  course,  to  the  long  immunity  from 
violence  enjoyed  by  their  race,  beloved  and  protected  by 
gods  and  men.  Only  once  have  they  ever  been  harmed, 
and  that  blow  was  dealt  by  a  young  Japanese  convert 
to  Christianity,  who  struck  at  them  as  emblems  of  hea- 
thenism ! 

The  atmosphere  of  Nara  is  serene  and  gentle — the 
true  atmosphere  of  Japan.  The  priests  are  quiet,  cour- 
teous old  men,  and  the  little  priestesses,  soft-footed  and 
tranquil,  dance  in  a  slow  succession  of  dignified  poses. 
The  Kasuga  temple  is  a  very  cathedral  of  Shintoism,  a 
place  of  many  court -yards,  surrounded  by  gates,  and 
buildings  painted  bright  Shinto  red,  with  sacred  straw 
ropes  and  symbolical  bits  of  rice-paper  hanging  before 
the  open  doors.  Venerable  cryptomeria-trees,  worthy  of 
a  California  grove,  stretch  the  great  buttresses  of  their 
roots  over  the  ground  of  the  court-yard,  and  one  thatch- 
ed roof  lovingly  embraces  the  trunk  of  a  crooked  old 
tree  that  almost  rests  on  it.  Wistaria  vines,  thick,  gnarl- 
ed, and  lichen-covered  with  the  growth  of  years,  hang  in 
giant  festoons  from  the  trees,  roll  in  curves  and  loops 
over  the  ground,  and,  climbing  to  the  top  of  the  tallest 
pines,  hang  their  clusters  of  pale-green  leaves  like  blos- 
soms against  the  dark  evergreens.  A  giant  trunk,  from 
which  grow  branches  of  the  camellia,  cherry,  plum,  wild 
ivy,  wistaria  and  nandina,  is  a  perpetual  marvel.  All 
through  the  woods  the  wistaria  runs  wild,  leaps  from  tree 
to  tree,  and  ties  and  knots  itself  in  titanic  coils. 

In  such  lovely  scenes  the  Kasuga  priests  lead  an  ideal 
existence.  They  marry,  they  raise  families;  their  little 
daughters  perform  the  sacred  dance  in  the  temple  for  a 

30« 


yinriktsha  Days  in  yapan 

certain  number  of  years,  and  they  may  leave  the  priest- 
hood if  they  wish.  All  the  brotherhood  wear  the  loose, 
flowing  purple  trousers,  white  gauze  coats,  and  black, 
helmet-shaped  caps  prescribed  by  the  Shinto  rules  ;  and 
besides  making  the  morning  and  evening  offerings  to 
the  gods,  and  conducting  special  ceremonies  on  the  two 
purification  days  of  the  year,  they  play  the  ancient  flute 
and  drum,  and  chant  a  hymn  while  the  sacred  dance  is 
given.  For  a  poetic,  philosophical,  meditative,  or  lazy  man 
nothing  could  be  more  congenial  than  this  life.  Hurry, 
novelty,  and  the  rush  of  events  come  not  near  Nara,  which 
is  in  the  land  "wherein  it  seemed  always  afternoon." 

The  pilgrims,  who  trudge  from  the  most  distant  prov- 
inces with  bell  and  beads  and  staff,  make  up  the  greater 
number  of  visitors,  and  their  white  garments,  straw  san- 
dals, cloaks,  and  hats,  are  of  a  fashion  centuries  old. 
Bands  of  these  votaries  go  through  the  temple  courts, 
in  charge  of  voluble  guides,  who  intone  a  description  of 
the  places  in  the  way  of  their  craft  the  world  over.  One 
or  two  old  men  seem  always  to  be  sauntering  up  the  long 
avenue,  stopping  frequently  to  rest,  praying  at  every 
shrine,  and  muttering  to  themselves  praises  of  the  sacred 
place.  Their  wrinkled  faces  glow  with  pleasure,  and 
they  delight  in  watching  the  deer,  to  whom  the  tinkle  of 
a  pilgrim's  bell  or  iron-ringed  staff  is  always  a  promise 
of  cakes. 

To  the  antiquarian,  Nara  is  full  of  interest.  The 
temples,  founded  in  the  seventh  and  eighth  centuries, 
were  the  first  Buddhist  sanctuaries  in  Japan ;  Buddhism, 
coming  from  India  by  way  of  China  and  Korea,  having 
found  its  first  home  here  when  Nara  was  the  imperial 
capital.  Four  empresses  and  three  emperors  held  the 
sceptre  between  708  and  782,  and  all  the  region  is  his- 
toric ground.  The  great  city,  that  covered  the  plain  for 
centuries  after  that  imperial  day,  has  shrunken  to  a  small 
provincial  town,  still  eloquent  of  the  past.     The  Shinto 


Through  Uji  to  Nara 

temples,  as  their  rules  provide,  have  been  rebuilt  every 
twenty  years,  the  original  buildings  being  exactly  dupli- 
cated each  time,  so  that,  in  their  freshness  and  perfect 
repair,  they  look  now  as  they  did  a  thousand  years  ago. 
The  Buddhist  shrines  have  been  burned,  rebuilt,  half 
abandoned  at  times ;  and  in  recent  years,  since  their 
lands  were  taken  from  them  and  their  revenues  withheld, 
have  suffered  seriously.  The  largest  image  of  Buddha 
is  the  Nara  Dai  Butsu.  The  seated  deity,  63  feet  in 
height,  was  set  upon  his  lotus  pedestal  in  749,  and  once 
the  head  of  the  statue  fell  off  and  was  broken,  and  twice 
the  temple  burned  and  melted  it.  The  temple  enshrin- 
ing the  bronze  deity  is  now  dilapidated,  and  the  huge 
corner  beams  and  brackets  of  the  roof  are  braced  with 
timbers,  so  that  an  earthquake  would  be  likely  to  over- 
set the  holy  place. 

The  great  two-storied  gate-way  of  the  Dai  Butsu  tem- 
ple has  stood  for  eleven  centuries  and  more,  and  is  a 
picturesque,  weather-beaten  old  structure,  apparently 
strong  enough  to  resist  the  assaults  of  another  thousand 
years.  Colossal  Nio,  with  hideous  countenances,  §tand 
on  guard  in  niches,  and  within  is  a  large  green  court- 
yard, and  a  closed  gallery  on  the  two  sides  that  connect 
the  gaie-way  with  the  temple — the  cloister  of  a  European 
cathedral.  A  huge  bronze  lantern,  one  of  the  earliest 
examples  of  such  work,  is  said  to  have  long  contained 
the  sacred  fire  brought  from  Ceylon.  The  great  Buddha 
itself  is  disappointing,  because  seen  too  near.  The  face 
is  sixteen  feet  long  and  over  nine  feet  wide,  and  the  ex- 
pression is  not  calm,  soulful,  and  meditative,  as  Buddha 
in  Nirvana  should  be,  but  heavy  and  stolid,  with  a  hard, 
unmeditative  stare.  The  gilding  with  which  the  statue 
was  once  covered  has  worn  away  with  time,  leaving  it  as 
dark  and  blackened  as  befits  its  Hottentot  countenance. 
On  the  great  halo  are  images  six  and  eight  feet  high 
that  look  like  pygmies. 

3«« 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

Behind  the  Buddha  is  a  museum  of  antiquities  con- 
nected in  some  way  with  the  temple  and  its  founders 
and  patrons.  Here  are  kept  the  carpenters'  tools  with 
which  the  first  temple  was  built,  and  prehistoric-looking 
fragments  of  bronze  and  iron  to  which  the  stranger  finds 
no  clew.  A  door  of  the  palace  whereon  Kusunoki,  the 
Chevalier  Bayard  of  Japan,  wrote  a  farewell  message 
with  his  arrow  when  he  went  away  to  his  last  battle, 
images,  carvings,  old  armor,  weapons,  and  trappings, 
afford  the  Japanese  visitor  much  delight.  But  the  real 
treasures  of  Dai  Butsu  are  the  relics  left  to  it  by  one  of 
the  Nara  Emperors,  who  built  a  substantial  log  store- 
house in  the  enclosure,  and  bequeathed  to  the  temple 
everything  his  palace  contained.  Palaces  were  small  in 
those  days,  and  their  furnishings  scanty ;  but  the  cloth- 
ing, household  effects,  and  ornaments  of  the  dead  ben- 
efactor were  brought  to  this  storehouse  and  carefully 
sealed  up.  Every  summer,  after  the  rainy  season  ends, 
the  treasures  are  aired,  the  inventory  verified,  and  the 
place  sealed  up  again.  Three  of  the  greatest  nobles  of 
the  empire  are  associated  with  the  high-priest  in  the  care 
of  these  Nara  relics,  and  the  storehouse  can  only  be 
opened  by  an  imperial  order  transmitted  in  the  hand- 
writing of  the  emperor.  Only  royal  or  greatly  distin- 
guished visitors  may  ask  this  privilege,  as  it  is  a  great 
trouble  and  expense  to  get  the  guardians  together.  Its 
value  as  a  collection  and  as  a  picture  of  the  life  of  the 
eighth  century  is  hardly  appreciated  by  the  Japanese, 
who  chiefly  reverence  its  sacredness  as  connected  with 
the  person  of  an  early  Emperor.  An  imperial  commis- 
sion, made  up  of  officers  of  the  imperial  household  and 
of  art  connoisseurs,  examined,  classified,  and  catalogued 
the  treasures  of  the  Nara  and  Kioto  temples  in  1888. 
Mr.  Kuki,  late  Japanese  minister  to  the  United  States, 
and  president  of  this  commission,  hrfd  even  this  imperial 

treasure-house  opened  and  the  precious  relics  photG- 

312 


Through  Uji  to  Nara 

graphed.  The  commission  and  its  staff  numbered  over 
twenty  people,  and  the  old  guardians  of  the  storehouse 
were  much  disturbed  by  this  invasion  of  their  carefully 
closed  domain,  which  they  would  have  resisted  if  they 
could. 

On  the  hill  above  the  Dai  Butsu  temple  are  other  Bud- 
dhist sanctuaries ;  the  Nigwatsudo  and  the  Hachiman 
being  devoted  respectively  to  the  goddess  Kwannon  and 
to  Hachiman,  god  of  war.  Both  are  resorts  for  the 
summer  pilgrims,  and  the  droning  of  prayers,  the  clap- 
ping of  hands  and  rattle  of  coins,  are  heard  all  day  long. 
Stone  terraces  and  staircases,  mossy  stone  lanterns  and 
green  drinking-fountains  make  the  old  places  picturesque, 
and  the  platforms  afford  magnificent  views  across  to  the 
bold  mountain-wall  in  the  west  that  divides  Nara  from 
Osaka's  fertile  rice  plain.  In  the  court-yards  are  sold 
maps,  wood-cuts,  and  bunches  of  little  cinnamon  twigs 
that  the  pilgrims  find  refreshing,  and  there  do  captive 
monkeys  perform  grotesque  antics.  One  may  often  see 
here  the  Hiyakudo  (the  hundred  times  going)  performed 
by  faithful  pilgrims,  who  walk  a  hundred  times  around 
in  the  fulfilment  of  a  vow. 

Between  these  Buddhist  temples  and  the  Shinto 
shrines,  hidden  in  their  forest  park,  there  intervenes  a 
smooth,  grassy  mountain,  called  the  Mikasayama,  or 
"  Three-hat  hill,"  because  of  its  three  ridges.  Every  de- 
vout pilgrim  climbs  the  delusive,  velvety-looking  slope 
to  the  stone  at  the  third  summit  to  look  out  upon  the 
rich  province  of  Yamato,  "  the  heart  of  Japan,"  and  the 
scene  of  so  many  battles,  wars  and  sieges  as  to  be  also 
called  "  the  cockpit  of  Japan." 

Far  as  the  eye  can  reach  the  valley  is  levelled  off  in 
rice  fields.  Tea-bushes  stripe  the  more  rolling  country 
with  their  regular  lines  of  thick,  dark  foliage  ;  bamboo 
groves  add  a  softer,  more  delicate  green,  and  deepest  of 
all  are  the  tones  of  the  pines. 

V-  a-3 


yinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

Near  the  base  of  the  hill,  but  high  enough  to  com- 
mand a  wide  prospect,  runs  a  narrow  road  lined  with 
little  tea-houses  and  toy-shops  where  souvenirs  are  sold. 
Nara  is  famous  for  its  cutlery  and  its  India  ink,  and 
swords,  daggers,  knives  and  scissors  are  sold  by  shop- 
men who  perform  extraordinary  feats  to  test  the  temper 
of  their  blades.  India  ink  pressed  into  fantastic  shapes, 
and  writing  -  brushes  made  of  deer's  hair,  are  carefully 
tied  up  in  the  pilgrim's  wallets,  with  the  famous  little 
Nara  ningio,  or  images  carved  in  wood.  The  Nara  nin- 
gios  always  represent  the  legendary  priests  and  people 
who  founded  Nara,  and  in  these  carvings  the  rural  art- 
ists display  great  talent,  giving  wonderful  expression  to 
the  tiny  faces  that  are  left  rough  faceted  as  first  chipped 
off  with  the  knife. 

These  tea-houses  and  shops  interpose  a  neutral  and 
worldly  barrier  between  the  cluster  of  Buddhist  estab- 
lishments at  the  one  side  and  the  region  of  Shintoism 
beyond.  From  the  tea-house  gates  the  road  makes  a 
curve  off  into  the  wistaria-tangled  forest  to  conduct  jin- 
rikishas  to  the  lower  level,  but  the  pilgrims  descend,  in- 
stead, four  long  flights  of  rough  stone  steps,  that  are 
wonderfully  picturesque  with  these  quaint  moving  fig- 
ures and  the  queer  little  shops  that  hang  to  the  borders 
of  the  stairs,  climbing  up  and  down  the  hill  with  them. 

At  the  foot  of  the  steps  the  road  reappears,  crossing 
a  narrow  creek-bed  on  a  high  bridge  that  gives  one 
beautiful  views  of  a  dark  little  ravine,  across  which  the 
trees  nearly  meet  and  the  ancient  creepers  are  looped 
and  knotted.  A  little  red  shrine  and  a  path  lined  with 
stone  lanterns  mark  the  beginning  of  the  temple  enclos- 
ure, dense  woods  rising  at  one  side  of  the  stone  lanterns 
lighting  the  path  to  the  ancient  Shinto  sanctuary  of  Ka- 
suga,  and  open  glades  stretching  out  at  the  other.  A 
few  shops  and  tea-booths  break  the  line  of  lanterns  on 
one  side ;  the  road  is  canopied  with  a  great  wistaria  trel- 

3'4 


Through  Uji  to  Nara 

lis,  and  a  spring  bubbles  up  in  a  stone  basin  in  the  midst 
of  rock-work  almost  hidden  in  shade  and  moss.  Weary 
pilgrims  stop  in  this  grateful  shade  to  drink  and  to  rest 
themselves  at  any  hour  of  the  day. 

Passing  the  stall  for  the  sacred  white  pony  of  the  gods 
and  some  brightly-painted  red  wooden  buildings,  one  en- 
ters a  great  court-yard  with  lanterns  hanging  from  the 
eaves  of  the  buildings  and  galleries  surrounding  its  four 
sides,  through  whose  doors  are  visible  only  a  mirror  and 
many-folded  papers  pendent  from  a  straw  rope.  This 
symbolism  suffices  the  believers,  who  kneel  devoutly  be- 
fore it  and  toss  in  their  coppers  as  a  prelude  to  their 
prayers.  Beside  the  shrine  is  the  treasury  of  the  tem- 
ple, containing  famous  swords,  the  gold-mounted  armor 
and  helmets  of  great  heroes,  and  lacquer-boxes  holding 
precious  writings  and  paintings.  The  queer  saddles 
worn  by  the  deer  at  the  old  matsuris  are  preserved,  and 
yards  of  panoramic  paintings  on  silk,  depicting  those 
splendid  pageants  of  the  old  days,  when  the  Emperor 
sent  his  representative  down  to  witness  the  parade,  and 
even  the  deer  took  part.  The  closed  shrines,  scattered 
through  the  forest,  are  quite  as  impressive  as  the  holy  of 
holies  in  this  temple,  and  here  the  bareness  and  empti- 
ness of  Shinto  worship  strike  the  beholder.  Each  of  the 
four  little  red  chapels  in  a  row  has  a  fine  bamboo  cur- 
tain concealing  the  interior,  and  the  middle  chapel  into 
which  the  pilgrims  may  look  as  they  pay  and  pray,  pre- 
sents to  their  gaze  only  a  screen  painted  with  mythical 
beasts.  A  large  covered  pavilion  in  the  court-yard  was 
provided  for  the  convenience  of  praying  daimios  in  the 
time  when  piety  was  spectacular,  and  when  the  whole 
retinue  of  a  great  man  assisted  at  his  devotions.  In  an- 
other pavilion  the  towns-people  burn  beans  and  sow  them 
abroad  every  winter  to  drive  away  evil  spirits. 

Every  twentieth  year  the  priests  plant  trees  to  furnish 
further  timbers,  but  in  Kasuga's  court  are  two  famous 

3«5 


yinriktsha  Days  in   'jfapan 

old  cryptomeria,  now  too  sacred  to  be  felled  even  for 
such  purposes,  and  one,  enmeshed  in  the  coils  of  a  wis- 
taria, is  a  marvel  even  in  Nara.  Without  the  square, 
heavy-timbered,  red  gate-way  of  the  court  two  avenues 
meet,  both  lined  with  rows  and  rows  of  tall  stone  lan- 
terns covered  with  moss  and  overhung  with  the  dense 
foliage  of  the  meeting  trees.  One  avenue  leads  to  a 
smaller  temple,  and  the  other,  dropping  by  a  flight  of 
stone  steps,  turns  to  the  right  and  descends  in  a  long 
slope,  bordered  with  regiments  of  stone  lanterns,  to  a 
large  red  torii.  Thence  it  pursues  its  way,  bordered  still 
with  massive  lanterns,  for  three-quarters  of  a  mile  to  the 
greater  torii,  marking  the  limit  of  the  sacred  grounds 
and  the  beginning  of  the  village  streets.  Other  lantern 
lines,  paths,  and  staircases  join  it,  and  a  bronze  deer, 
sitting  among  rough,  mossy  bowlders  under  a  dense  can- 
opy of  trees  and  creepers,  pours  a  stream  of  pure  spring- 
water  into  a  granite  basin.  There  are  more  than  three 
thousand  of  these  stone  lanterns  along  the  Kasuga  ap- 
proaches, all  of  them  gifts  from  daimios,  nobles,  and  rich 
believers ;  and  in  days  when  the  temples  were  rich  and 
faith  prosperous,  they  were  lighted  every  night.  At  pres- 
ent it  is  only  during  great  festivals  that  wicks  and  saucers 
of  oil  are  set  in  all  the  lanterns,  but  some  sixty  points  of 
flame  flicker  nightly  in  the  dense  shadows  by  the  Kasuga 
gate,  giving  most  weird  efifects. 

From  Kasuga  gate  the  upper  avenue  of  lanterns  leads 
to  the  Wakamiya  shrine,  dedicated  to  the  early  gods  of 
the  Shinto  religion.  Here  the  old  custom  of  the  sacred 
dance  is  kept  up,  and  a  group  of  young  priestesses  is  in 
waiting  to  repeat  the  measures  danced  by  Suzume  before 
the  Sun  Goddess's  cave  in  prehistoric  times.  The  little 
ministrants  are  all  between  the  ages  of  nine  and  twelve, 
timid,  gentle,  and  harmless  as  the  deer  that  often  stray 
in  and  watch  them.  Their  dress  is  the  old  costume  of 
the  imperial  court — a  picturesque  lower  garment  or  di- 

316 


Through  Uji  to  Nara 

vided  skirt  of  the  brightest  cardinal-red  silk,  and  a  white 
kimono,  with  square  sleeves  and  pointed  neck  filled  with 
alternate  folds  of  red  and  white.  When  they  dance  they 
wear  loose  kimonos  of  white  gauze,  painted  with  the 
wistaria  crest  of  the  Kasuga  temple,  the  front  of  the 
gauzy  garment  half  covering  the  red  skirt,  and  the  back 
pieces  trailing  on  the  mats.  Their  faces  are  plastered 
so  thickly  with  white  paint  that  they  lose  all  expression, 
and,  following  the  old  fashion,  their  eyebrows  are  shaved, 
and  two  tiny  black  dots  high  up  in  the  middle  of  their 
foreheads  take  the  place  of  them.  With  lips  heavily 
rouged,  the  countenance  is  more  a  mask  than  a  human 
face.  The  hair,  gathered  together  at  the  back  of  the 
neck,  is  tied  with  loops  of  gold  paper,  and  then,  folded 
in  soft  white  paper,  allowed  to  hang  down  the  back. 
Long  hair-pins,  with  clusters  of  wistaria  and  red  camel- 
lia, are  thrust  across  the  top  of  the  head,  and  fastened 
so  that  they  stand  out  like  horns  over  the  forehead.  In 
detail  the  costume  is  not  pretty,  but  in  its  general  effect 
it  is  singularly  bright  and  picturesque. 

One  may  have  as  many  sacred  dancers  and  as  long  a 
dance  as  he  will  pay  for,  and  as  soon  as  the  money  is 
received  the  two  priests  get  into  their  ceremonial  white 
gowns  and  high  black  hats,  and,  sitting  before  the  an- 
cient drums,  chant,  pound,  and  blow  on  doleful  pipes  an 
accompaniment  for  the  little  dancers.  The  sacred  dance 
is  solemn  enough,  and  each  dancer  has  a  fan  and  a  bunch 
of  bells,  from  which  hang  long  strips  of  bright-colored 
silks.  They  advance,  retreat,  glide  to  right  and  left,  raise 
their  fans,  shake  their  sacred  baby-rattles,  and,  with  few 
changes  in  the  measure,  repeat  the  same  figures  and 
movements  for  a  certain  length  of  time.  If  one  pays 
more  money  they  repeat  the  same  thing,  and  the  priests 
can  wail  the  endless  accompaniment  by  the  hour.  To 
us  the  dance  was  simply  a  curious  custom ;  but  the  de- 
vout old  pilgrims,  who  have  hoarded  up  their  money  for 


yinriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

the  journey  for  months  and  often  years,  feel  it  to  be  a  sol- 
emn and  sanctified  service.  It  is  pathetic  to  see  their 
faces  glowing  and  their  eyes  filled  with  tears  at  the  fine 
spectacle  that  is  so  rare  an  event  in  their  lives,  and  which 
crowns  their  summer  pilgrimage  to  the  old  shrines  of  their 
faith. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 
NARA      ' 


In  the  last  week  of  June,  the  proprietor  of  the  tea-field 
beneath  our  veranda  conducted  a  second  picking  of  his 
stumpy  little  bushes.  From  sunrise  until  dusk  rose  a 
chorus  of  children's  voices  beyond  the  hedge.  The  first 
and  best  crop  having  been  gathered  weeks  earlier  with 
the  first  fire -flies,  this  hubbub  accompanied  only  the 
gleaning  after  the  harvesters.  It  was  a  pretty  picture  in 
the  foreground  of  the  magnificent  view — these  little  blue 
and  white  figures  in  huge  wash  bowl  hats,  with  touches 
of  bright  red  here  and  there  in  their  costumes.  The 
headman  sat  comfortably  under  a  fig-tree,  with  no  cloth- 
ing to  speak  of,  smoked  his  pipe,  and  watched  the  young- 
sters at  work.  When  they  toiled  up  to  him  with  full  bas- 
kets, he  weighed  the  load  with  a  rude  steelyard  and  sent 
them  back,  so  that  some  of  the  tea-pickers  were  always 
moving  up  and  down  the  paths  between  the  compact 
rows  of  bushes,  and  grouped  about  the  patriarch  under 
the  fig-tree.  The  leaves  were  spread  in  the  sun  all  day 
and  carried  off  at  night  in  large  sacks  and  baskets.  Walk- 
ing out  through  the  woods  one  day,  with  two  little  red- 
gowned  priestesses  from  the  Kasuga  temple,  we  came 
upon  a  tiny  village,  and  tliere  found  the  same  tea-leaves 
being  toasted  in  shallow  paper-lined  baskets  over  char- 
coal fires.  The  attendants  rubbed  and  tossed  the  fra- 
.  320 


Nara 

grant  leaves,  that  were  soon  dried  enough  to  suffice  for 
the  home  market. 

Although  secular  occupations  prosper,  and  Nara  cut- 
lery and  ink  rank  high  in  public  favor,  the  temple  life  of 
Nara  is  its  real  existence.  Every  day  pilgrims  and  tour- 
ists passed  before  us  in  processions  whose  variety  of 
people  and  costumes  was  endless.  Yet  in  all  the  weeks 
the  European  coat  and  trousers  only  once  appeared  in 
those  sacred  aisles.  Every  morning  two  or  more  of 
the  little  red-robed  priestesses  came,  hand  in  hand,  to 
spend  an  hour  or  two  beside  my  friend's  easel.  The  old 
priests,  in  their  white  gowns  and  purple  skirts,  were  very 
courteous  and  hospitable,  and  as  our  stay  lengthened  we 
grew  to  feel  ourselves  a  part  of  the  sacred  community. 
The  little  priestesses  carried  us  to  their  homes  to  drink 
tea,  and  the  priests  brought  their  friends  to  watch  the 
methods  of  the  foreign  artist.  Among  the  sight-seers 
and  visitors  to  the  Shinto  shrines  and  their  guardians 
were  many  Buddhist  priests,  whose  shaved  heads  and 
black  or  yellow  gauze  gowns  made  them  conspicuous. 
The  priests  of  the  two  faiths  seemed  to  fraternize  and  to 
treat  each  other  with  the  greatest  consideration.  Their 
speech,  as  we  heard  it,  was  always  so  formal,  so  gentle, 
and  so  loaded  with  honorifics  and  the  set  phrases  of 
politeness  that  there  could  never  have  been  any  theo- 
logical controversies.  A  few  Buddhist  nuns,  also,  made 
pilgrimage  to  Kasuga's  ancient  groves  ;  creatures  unfem- 
ihine  and  unbeautiful  enough  in  appearance  to  be  saintly 
in  the  extreme.  They  wear  white  kimonos  under  gauze 
coats,  with  a  skirt  plaited  to  the  edge  of  them — the  same 
costume  that  priests  wear — and  they  shave  their  heads 
with  the  same  remorseless  zeal.  These  bald-headed 
women  give  one  a  strange  sensation,  for  in  the  absence 
of  their  dusky  tresses  their  eyes  appear  too  prominent, 
and  it  is  easy  to  perceive  an  unnatural,  snaky  glitter  in 
them.     There  are  several  nunneries  near  Nara  and  one 


'Jtnrtkisha  Days  in  yapan 

in  Kioto,  but  all  the  inmates  assume  the  same  priests' 
dress  and  shave  their  heads,  and  we  inferred  that  all  the 
six  hundred  Buddhist  nuns  in  the  empire  were  equally 
ugly. 

At  the  edge  of  the  little  town  of  Nara  is  a  large  pond, 
wherein  a  court  romance  of  the  eighth  century  declares 
a  lovelorn  maiden  to  have  drowned  herself  for  sake  of  a 
fickle  Emperor.  Above  this  historic  pond  stands  a  fine 
old  five-story  pagoda,  and  the  scattered  buildings  remain- 
ing from  what  was  once  a  great  Buddhist  establishment. 
This  Kobukuji  temple  dates  back  to  the  year  710,  but 
has  been  burned  and  rebuilt  again  and  again.  After  the 
downfall  of  the  Shoguns,  who  were  Buddhists,  the  res- 
toration of  the  Emperor  to  power  made  Shinto  the  es- 
tablished faith.  In  the  zeal  attending  the  revival  of 
Shinto,  Buddhism  was  almost  laid  under  a  ban.  Bud- 
dhist priests  hid  themselves,  and  Buddhist  pictures,  stat- 
ues, and  books  were  concealed.  Moreover,  the  craze  for 
foreign  fashions  induced  a  contempt  for  the  old  temples 
and  pagodas.  Two  of  the  buildings  of  Kobukuji  were 
torn  down  and  the  statues  in  them  destroyed.  Ropes 
were  even  placed  about  the  beautiful  old  pagoda,  which 
would  have  met  the  fate  of  the  Column  Vendome  had 
not  the  saner  citizens  leagued  together  to  preserve  it. 
In  this  calmer  day,  the  Japanese  of  whatever  faith  look 
upon  this  ancient  pagoda,  the  old  bell,  and  the  venera- 
ble buildings  of  the  Buddhist  establishments  as  the  pride 
of  Nara. 

The  town  of  Nara  is  a  well-kept  little  provincial  settle- 
ment, but  with  nothing  especially  characteristic  or  inter- 
esting in  its  clean  streets.  One  goes  to  see  the  black 
gnomes  at  work,  kneading  their  dough  of  rapeseed-oil, 
soot,  and  glue,  pressing  it  into  moulds,  baking  it,  and 
supplying  the  country  with  its  best  writing  ink.  While 
the  Japanese  india-ink  is  not  equal  to  the  Chinese  ink, 
some  of  it  is  very  expensive.     It  requires  a  connoisseur 

322 


Nara 

to  tell  why  a  stick  the  size  of  one's  little  finger  should 
cost  one  or  two  dollars  at  the  manufacturer's  shop,  while 
a  cake  three  or  four  times  as  large,  and  apparently  of  the 
same  substance,  should  be  only  a  tenth  of  that  price. 
The  few  curio-shops  offer  almost  nothing  to  the  most  dili- 
gent searcher,  and  the  town  itself  makes  small  claim 
upon  the  average  visitors,  who  come  to  see  the  temples 
and  enjoy  the  surroundings  and  the  view  from  the  sacred 
groves  on  the  heights.  In  the  little  row  of  tea-houses 
along  the  brow  of  Mikasayama,  one  is  in  the  midst  of 
Nara's  real  life  and  atmosphere,  and  in  the  detached 
pavilions  and  houses  scattered  through  their  gardens 
the  visitor  is  confronted  with  the  most  attractive  phases 
of  a  Japanese  traveller's  existence.  The  exquisite  sim- 
plicity and  beauty  of  these  tiny  houses,  with  their  encir- 
cling galleries,  all  the  four  sides  open  to  the  air  and 
view,  the  silence  of  -the  garden,  broken  only  by  the 
trickling  water  as  it  falls  from  bamboo  pipe  to  bronze 
basin  or  tiny  lakelet,  render  it  an  Arcadia.  For  a  small 
sum  one  may  have  one  of  these  tiny  houses  to  himself, 
a  dainty  box  for  cha  no  yu,  and  a  doll's  kitchen  accom- 
panying each  pavilion.  On  sunny  days  the  garden  is  a 
small  paradise,  with  the  moving  figures  of  guests  and  at- 
tendants always  giving  a  human  interest  to  the  pictu- 
resque bits  of  landscape.  On  rainy  days  the  pictures 
are  as  many,  but  done  in  soberer  tones.  On  those  rainy 
June  days,  when  there  were  few  smart  showers,  but  a 
steady,  persistent,  fine  drizzle  that  left  everything  soaked 
with  moisture,  the  domestics  pattered  about  our  garden 
from  house  to  house,  perched  on  their  high  wooden 
clogs,  with  their  skirts  tucked  high  above  their  bare  feet, 
twirling  huge  oil-paper  umbrellas  above  their  heads. 
At  night  they  came  to  close  our  amados  noisily,  and  to 
hang  up  the  mosquito-nets  of  coarsely-woven  green  cot- 
ton— nets  the  size  of  the  room  itself,  fastened  by  cords 
at  the  four  corners  of  the  ceiling,  and  exhaling  the  musty, 

3»J 


Jinriktsha  Days  in  yapan 

mildewed  odor  that  belongs  to  so  many  things  Japanese, 
and  is  so  inevitable  in  the  rainy  seasoa  From  all  the 
foliage  mosquitoes  swarmed  by  myriads,  and  a  candle- 
flame  attracted  winged  things  that  only  an  entomologist 
could  name ;  insects  so  small  and  light  that  one  breathed 
them ;  gorgeous  golden  -  green  beetles,  rivalling  their 
Brazilian  congeners  ;  and  huge  black  stag-horn  beetles 
that  dealt  one  a  sharp  blow  with  the  force  of  their  com- 
ing. At  night,  too,  the  domestic  rat  asserted  itself,  and 
this  pest  and  disturber  of  tea-house  life  ran  riot  in  the 
empty  chamber  between  the  beautiful  wooden  ceilings 


PiaESTKSSES   AT   NARA 
3*4 


Nara 

and  the  real  roof.  The  thin  wood  acted  as  a  sounding- 
board,  and  their  scampering  and  racing,  and  the  thud  of 
the  pursuing  weasels,  was  an  all-night  and  every-night 
affair.  The  Japanese  themselves  seem  to  feel  no  hostil- 
ity towards  rats  and  mice,  and  at  Yaami's  and  at  Nara 
the  proprietor  and  staff  sit  quietly  in  the  great  office  and 
kitchen-room,  which  are  so  nearly  one,  and  allow  these 
followers  of  Daikoku  to  scamper  over  their  ledgers,  be- 
tween the  groups  on  the  mats,  and  to  perform  feats  of 
racing  and  balancing  on  the  rafters  overhead. 

The  flimsiness  of  our  little  house,  no  less  than  the 
absurd  walls  and  gates  of  the  moated  demesne,  seemed 
to  invite  robbery,  but  in  that  Arcadia  there  were  no  rob- 
bers. The  habitation  was  left  alone  for  hours  with  ev- 
ery screen  wide  open,  and  countless  things  in  view  that 
might  have  tempted  curious  handling  at  least,  but  noth- 
ing was  disturbed  nor  lost.  There  was  no  provision  for 
locking  the  screens  of  any  room,  nor  for  making  the 
amados  proof  against  any  amateur  burglar,  the  need  of 
such  a  protection  never  having  been  felt  —  a  sufficient 
commentary  on  the  people, 

Nesans,  coolies,  and  small  boys  were  all  so  individual, 
so  characteristically  Japanese,  so  untouched  by  and  un- 
used to  foreign  influences,  that  they  were  an  unceasing 
delight ;  and  so  unintentionally  theatrical  and  pictu- 
resque that  for  day  after  day  we  felt  ourselves  to  be  living 
in  a  theatre,  and  Nara's  hill-side  to  be  one  vast  revolving 
stage.  We  had  easily  fallen  into  the  serene  and  peace- 
ful routine  of  Nara  life,  and  become  so  interested  in 
those  surrounding  us,  that  there  was  a  real  sadness  on 
our  own  part  when  easel,  camera,  and  koris  were  packed, 
and  those  simple,  affectionate  people  bade  us  their  tear- 
ful sayonaras. 

It  was  a  rainy  morning,  and  the  green  rice  plain  looked 
greener  under  the  gray  sky  as  we  rode  away  from  Nara. 
Men  and  women  were  working  in  the  fields,  wading  knee- 

3*5 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapan 

deep  in  the  mud  and  water,  stirring  the  muck  around 
the  young  shoots,  and  tearing  up  the  water-weeds  with 
iron  hooks.  No  other  grain  requires  as  much  care  as 
rice,  and  from  the  first  transplanting  from  the  seed-bed 
until  the  ears  of  grain  are  formed,  there  is  continuous 
grubbing  in  the  mire  of  the  paddy  fields.  The  legions 
of  frogs  that  live  in  them  share  their  abode  with  horrible 
slugs,  snails,  blood-suckers,  and  stingers  of  many  kinds, 
against  whose  assaults  the  poor  farmers  wrap  their  legs 
knee-high  with  many  thicknesses  of  cotton  cloth.  Fol- 
lowing the  level  plain  and  skirting  instead  of  surmount- 
ing the  bold  mountain-spur,  all  the  twenty-six  miles  from 
Nara  to  Osaka  ran  through  rice  fields.  Every  little  square 
of  dyked  paddy-field  had  its  workers.  In  some  the  first 
ploughing  was  being  done;  in  others  the  water  was  being 
worked  into  the  soil ;  and,  farther  on,  men  and  women, 
standing  ankle -deep  in  the  muck,  were  setting  out  the 
tiny  green  shoots.  Here  and  there  laborers  were  tread- 
ing water-wheels  to  pump  water  from  the  lower  to  the 
higher  levels,  or  with  long  sweeps  dipping  it  slowly  up 
from  wells. 

There  are  seven  great  Buddhist  monasteries  around 
Nara,  all  more  or  less  in  decay,  but  all  possessing  relics 
of  great  historic  interest  and  value.  Several  of  them 
show  their  white  walls,  like  fortresses,  high  on  the  mount- 
ain-side, and  in  them  linger  the  remnants  of  a  once  rich 
and  numerous  priesthood — their  sacred  retreats  being  so 
remote  and  inaccessible  that  not  half  a  dozen  foreigners 
have  ever  visited  them. 

Horiuji,  half-way  to  Osaka,  is  the  largest  of  these 
Nara  monasteries,  and  its  pagoda  and  Hondo  are  the 
oldest  wooden  buildings  in  Japan.  Both  were  com- 
pleted in  the  year  607,  and  both  are  intact,  solid,  and 
firm  enough  to  endure  for  twelve  centuries  more.  To 
students  of  Buddhism,  Horiuji  is  a  Mecca,  on  account  of 
its  wealth  of  scriptures,  statues,  pictures,  and  relics,  dat- 

326 


Nara 

ing  from  the  time  when  that  faith  had  just  been  intro- 
duced from  China.  To  art  connoisseurs  its  interest  is 
unique  because  of  its  old  Hondo,  containing  frescos  ex- 
ecuted by  a  Korean  artist  at  the  time  of  its  erection, 
which,  with  one  exception,  are  the  only  frescos  proper 
in  Japan,  and  among  the  few  paintings  executed  on  a 
surface  erect  before  the  artist.  All  other  paintings  in 
Japan  —  kakemono,  panels  of  screens,  and  sections  of 
ceilings  or  wall  space — are  done  with  the  wood,  paper, 
or  silk  lying  on  the  floor  before  the  seated  artist.  These 
Horiuji  frescos  are  dim  and  faded,  and  only  pale  wraiths 
and  suggestions  of  haloed  saints,  here  a  head  and  there 
a  bit  of  drapery,  can  be  made  out.  In  recent  years  at- 
tention has  been  called  to  these  works.  By  imperial 
command  an  ^rtist  came  down  from  Tokio  to  copy  them; 
and  when  the  Imperial  Art  Commission  came  from  their 
Nara  work  to  inspect  and  catalogue  the  Horiuji  treas- 
ures, Ogawa,  their  photographer,  spent  two  days  at  work 
making  flash- light  exposures  in  the  dark  interior  of  the 
Hondo. 

Among  the  sacred  relics  of  Horiuji  is  the  veritable 
eyeball  of  Buddha,  the  legacy  of  the  holy  Shotoku  Tai- 
sho,  the  Emperor  who  founded  Horiuji,  and  left  to  it 
statues  of  himself,  carved  by  his  own  hand  at  diff^erent 
ages.  Shotoku  Taisho  talked  when  he  was  four  months 
old,  and  a  little  later  conversed  in  eight  languages  all 
at  once.  It  is  therefore  easy  to  believe  that  when  this 
prodigy  of  legend  was  a  year  old,  and,  turning  to  the 
East,  with  clasped  hands  repeated  the  invocation  of  his 
sect  —  '■'•  Namii  Amida  Butsu  T'  (Hail,  or  Hear  us.  Great 
Buddha !)  —  he  found  this  precious  relic  of  Buddha's 
body,  the  eyeball,  in  his  hands.  That  he  knew  it  to  be 
an  eyeball  is  not  the  least  part  of  the  miracle,  as  it  looks 
most  like  the  tiny,  discolored  pearl  of  a  common  oyster. 
The  eyeball  of  Buddha  is  shown  every  day  at  high  noon, 
a  special  mass  being  chanted  by  the  priest  while  the  reliQ 

l»7 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

is  displayed.  For  a  consideration,  and  for  the  welfare 
of  the  temple  treasury,  the  mass  may  be  repeated  at  any 
hour.  The  celebrant,  a  very  old  priest,  when  called  from 
the  monastery,  came  in  splendid  apparel  of  brocade  and 
gauze,  and  entering  the  little  temple,  knelt,  touched  a 
silver  -  voiced  gong,  and  prayed  before  a  gilded  shrine 
with  closed  doors  and  a  wealth  of  golden  lotus  orna- 
ments. Then  he  slowly  drew  forth  from  an  altar  recess 
a  large  bundle,  covered  with  rich  red  and  gold  brocade 
and  tied  with  heavy  silk  cords,  laid  it  reverently  on  a 
low  table  before  the  altar,  and,  with  a  muttered  chant  of 
prayer,  untied  and  laid  back  bag  after  bag  of  old  bro- 
cade, each  lined  with  silk  of  some  contrasting  color  and 
tied  with  thick  cords.  After  the  ninth  bag  was  opened, 
an  upright  case,  covered  with  more  brocade,  appeared, 
lifting  which,  the  priest  produced  a  little  rock-crystal 
reliquary,  and  set  it  upon  a  golden  lotus  as  a  pedestal. 
The  reliquary  was  in  the  shape  of  the  conventional 
Buddhist  tomb — a  cube,  a  sphere,  and  a  pyramid,  placed 
one  above  the  other  —  and  the  bits  of  flawless  crystal 
were  held  together  by  silver  wires.  In  the  hollow  sphere 
lay  the  dingy  relic,  that  rattled  like  a  pebble  when  it  was 
turned  for  one  to  see  it.  The  holy  man  never  once 
paused  in  his  muttered  chant  from  the  time  he  lifted  the 
precious  bundle  from  the  altar  until  he  had  replaced  the  ten 
silken  wrappings  and  set  the  sacred  relic  back  in  its  niche. 
In  one  of  the  buildings  are  queer  oven-shaped  humps 
in  the  floor,  covering  secret  chambers,  where  for  twelve 
centuries  offerings  of  gold  have  been  dropped  for  the 
rebuilding  of  the  temples  in  case  of  fire.  These  hoards 
cannot  be  touched  except  on  the  occurrence  of  the  ca- 
lamity feared,  and  the  priests  even  resisted  the  wish  of 
the  Imperial  Art  Commission  to  break  open  the  vaults 
to  examine  the  coins  believed  to  be  there.  A  Boston  art 
connoisseur,  who  visited  Horiuji  a  few  years  ago,  and 
found  its  priests  poor  and  its  art  treasures  in  need  of 

328 


Nara 

care  and  restoration,  started  a  fund  for  that  purpose,  and 
himself  took  in  charge  the  rehabilitation  of  one  precious 
old  screen.  Many  valuable  paintings,  tattered,  mould- 
ered, and  mildewed  almost  to  extinction,  were  thereby 
rescued.  Four  other  contributors  have  since  subscribed 
generous  amounts  to  this  fund,  all  of  whom,  by  strange 
coincidence,  were  from  Boston, 

On  a  hill  back  of  the  main  sanctuaries  is  a  most  curi- 
ous octagonal  temple,  filled  with  the  votive  offerings  of 
those  who  have  been  restored  to  health,  or  received  other 
answers  to  prayer.  The  outside  walls  are  half- hidden 
by  the  hundreds  of  six-inch-square  boards,  upon  which 
are  painted  the  suffering  pilgrims  who  have  been  cured, 
and  a  ledge  is  heaped  high  with  awls,  the  conventional 
offering  of  the  deaf  whose  hearing  has  been  restored. 
Locks  of  hair,  short  swords,  daggers,  steel  mirrors,  and 
devices  in  coins  are  hung  on  the  doors.  The  circular 
altar  within  the  stone-floored  temple,  containing  many 
old  statues  and  sacred  images,  has  its  base  completely 
plated  with  overlapping  sword-guards,  short  swords,  and 
little  steel  mirrors.  Helmets  and  bits  of  armor  are  ev- 
erywhere, and  the  long  shell  hair-pins  of  Japanese  wom- 
en have  been  offered  in  such  numbers  that,  woven  to- 
gether with  silk  cords  into  curtains  or  screens,  they  hang 
like  banners  before  and  beside  the  altars.  All  around 
the  walls  and  over  the  rafters,  as  far  up  into  the  dark- 
ness as  one  can  see,  hang  short  swords,  ranged  closely 
side  by  side,  overlapping  mirrors,  guards,  bows,  arrows, 
curious  weapons  and  pieces  of  armor,  coins,  and  hair- 
pins. Near  this  extraordinary  place  is  a  nunnery,  where 
a  family  of  holy  women  have  the  shaved  heads  and  dis- 
figuring garments  of  priests,  their  altars  and  images,  their 
daily  service,  and  the  same  routine  of  life  in  every  way. 

Rounding  the  last  spur  of  hills  and  crossing  a  broad 
river,  the  road  reaches  the  great  Osaka  plain,  lying  in  a 
broad  semicircle  between  the  mountains  and  the  shores 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

of  the  Inland  Sea.  On  these  vast  alluvial  flats  rice  is 
still  the  main  crop,  and  the  sake  made  from  it  is  consid- 
ered the  best  in  the  empire.  All  over  this  emerald  plain 
the  farmers  could  be  seen  at  work,  their  wide  hats  show- 
ing like  so  many  big  mushrooms  when  the  wearers,  sunk 
deep  in  the  muck  of  the  paddy  fields,  bent  over  their 
work.  On  the  prairie-like  level  of  the  plain  the  irrigating 
system  is  simple  and  ingenious.  Everywhere  the  farmers 
were  plastering  up  the  little  dikes  that  keep  the  water 
within  its  limit  and  pattern  the  plain  with  a  gigantic 
check -work  of  narrow  black  lines  and  serve  as  foot- 
walks  from  field  to  field.  No  fences  or  high  barriers 
break  the  even  level,  and  those  strange  contrivances,  the 
primitive  Persian  water-wheels,  may  be  seen  every  few 
rods.  This  Persian  wheel,  with  its  row  of  hanging  boxes, 
is  put  in  motion  by  a  man  who  climbs  it  in  treadmill 
fashion,  the  boxes  scooping  up  the  water  from  the  lower 
level  and  discharging  their  burden  into  a  trough  at  the 
top,  whence  the  stream  flows  from  field  to  field  by  almost 
imperceptible  changes  of  level.  The  wheelman  wears 
only  the  loin-cloth  prescribed  by  law  and  a  wisp  of  blue 
towel  knotted  about  his  head.  Occasionally  he  fastens 
a  big  paper  umbrella  to  a  long  bamboo  pole,  and  plants 
it  where  it  will  cast  a  small  shadow  on  him,  but  usually 
he  tramps  his  uncomplaining  round  in  the  blaze  of  the 
tropical  sun,  a  solitary  and  pathetic,  but  highly  pictu- 
resque figure,  isolated  thus  on  the  vast  green  plain.  More 
Oriental,  even,  are  the  groups  at  the  wells,  shaded  by 
straw  mats  or  umbrellas  on  long  poles,  while  they  work 
the  same  long  well-sweeps  as  the  shadoofs  of  the  Nile. 

Far  off,  like  an  island  in  this  sea  of  green,  rise  the 
castle  towers  and  the  pagoda -tops  of  Osaka,  and  for 
hours  we  hardly  seemed  to  gain  upon  the  vision,  but  the 
runners,  saving  themselves  for  a  last  effort  and  taking  a 
sip  of  tea  in  the  suburbs,  raced  down  through  the  streets 
and  over  the  bridges  at  a  gait  never  before  equalled. 


Osaka 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 
OSAKA 

Osaka,  the  great  commercial  city  of  Japaif,  with  its 
population  of  over  361,000  souls,  stretches  out  its  square 
miles  of  gray-roofed  houses  at  the  edge  of  the  plain, 
where  the  waters  of  the  Yodogawa  reach  Osaka  Bay. 
Bars  and  shallows  prevent  large  vessels  from  reaching 
the  city,  and  KoW-Hiogo,  twenty  miles  across  the  arc  of 
the  bay,  is  its  seaport.  The  branching  river  and  the  in- 
numerable canals  intersecting  the  city  have  given  Osaka 
the  name  of  the  "  Venice  of  Japan  ;"  as  if  a  trading  city, 
built  on  a  level  plain,  with  canals  too  wide  and  houses 
too  low  and  dull  in  color  to  be  in  the  least  picturesque, 
could  be  considered  even  a  poor  relation  of  the  "  Bride 
of  the  Sea."  The  "  Chicago  of  Japan  "  is  a  fitter  title,  for 
if  no  pork-packing  establishments  exist,  the  whole  com- 
munity is  as  energetically  absorbed  in  money-making,  the 
yen,  instead  of  the  almighty  dollar,  being  the  god  chiefly 
worshipped,  and  Osaka's  Board  of  Trade  the  most  ex- 
citing and  busy  one  in  the  empire. 

Osaka  has  been  prominent  in  the  history  of  Japan 
from  the  very  earliest  times,  and  at  the  time  of  the 
Restoration  the  rebel  Shogun  made  his  last  stand  and 
fought  his  last  battle  at  Osaka  castle.  The  next  great 
eveni:  in  Osaka's  annals  was  the  flood  of  1885,  which 
was  without  parallel  in  this  country  of  floods.  During 
the  last  weeks  of  the  rainy  season  of  June  the  rain  fell 
in  torrents  for  more  than  a  week,  and  a  typhoon,  sweep- 
ing the  region,  deluged  the  adjoining  provinces.  Lake 
Biwa  rose  many  feet  above  its  usual  level,  the  rivers 
doubled  and  redoubled  their  size,  and  the  whole  Osaka 


Jinriktsha  Days  in   Japan 

plain  was  a  lake.  The  rivers  having  been  raised  arti- 
ficially above  the  level  of  the  surrounding  country  for 
the  irrigation  of  the  rice  fields,  their  banks  and  levees 
melted  away  before  the  rush  of  waters,  and  the  plain  was 
scoured  by  swift  currents  running  eight  and  fifteen  feet 
deep  over  the  rice  fields.  Farm-houses  and  villages  dis- 
appeared in  a  day,  and  the  wretched  people  saved  them- 
selves and  their  few  effects  by  taking  to  boats  and  rafts 
or  seeking  refuge  in  trees.  After  two  weeks  of  high- 
water  and  continuing  rains,  the  flood  subsided  and  the 
wreck  was  more  apparent.  A  few  farmers,  by  replanting 
and  careful  tending,  obtained  crops  that  season,  but 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  the  homeless  and  destitute 
were  sheltered  and  fed  in  the  unused  barracks  at  Osaka 
castle. 

In  the  city  itself  only  the  castle  and  a  few  business 
streets  were  left  above  water,  and  thousands  of  houses 
and  godowns  were  ruined;  the  mud -walls  under  the 
heavy  tiled  roofs  collapsing  like  card -houses  in  the 
current.  One  hundred  and  forty-six  bridges  were  car- 
ried away,  and,  for  a  time,  boats  were  the  only  vehicles 
and  means  of  communication.  The  suffering  and  desti- 
tution were  terrible,  and  Osaka's  many  industries  were 
paralyzed.  But  in  the  shortest  time  after  the  subsidence 
of  the  waters  temporary  bridges  and  ferries  were  estab- 
lished, embankments  patched  up,  houses  rebuilt,  and 
the  city  returned  to  its  busy  ways.  Except  for  the  mud- 
stained  walls  and  the  heaps  of  drift  and  debris  on  roof- 
tops, little  reminded  one  of  the  disaster  as  we  sped 
through  the  stone-paved  streets.  House-boats  went  up 
and  down  the  river  each  evening  with  geisha  and  maiko 
singing  happily,  and  koto  and  samisen  ringing  on  the  air 
till  midnight.  Jiutei's  queer  hotel,  a  foreign  inn  up-stairs 
and  a  Japanese  tea-house  below  stairs,  was  the  scene  of 
as  much  feasting  as  ever,  and  the  recuperative  power  of 
Osaka's  people  surprised  one  at  every  turn. 


Osaka 

The  castle  is  the  great  show-place  of  Osaka,  and  al- 
though the  palace,  which  was  the  heart  of  the  great  for- 
tress, was  burned  in  1868,  much  remains  to  be  seen.  The 
area  enclosed  by  the  massive  outer  walls  and  the  great 
moat  is  immense,  and  the  clustered  towers,  and  buildings, 
crowning  the  one  elevation  on  all  the  Osaka  plain,  show 
commandingly  from  every  point.  The  angles  of  the  walls 
are  sharpened  and  curve  inward  like  the  bow  of  a  battle- 
ship, and  on  each  corner  remain  quaint  white  towers  with 
curving  black  roofs  piled  one  upon  another.  The  castle 
walls  are  wonders  of  masonry ;  single  stones  forty-six  feet 
in  length  and  ten  or  twelve  feet  square  being  built  in 
on  either  side  of  the  main  gate.  Other  stones,  twenty 
feet  in  height,  and  roughhewn  as  they  came  from  the 
quarry,  stand  at  angles  of  the  walls  like  miniature  El 
Capitans.  Nearly  all  these  titanic  blocks  are  known  to 
the  Japanese  by  particular  names,  each  with  its  legends 
attached  ;  but  the  foreigner  puzzles  long  to  decide  how 
those  primitive  builders  brought  such  masses  of  granite 
from  the  quarries  on  the  island  of  Kiushiu  and  placed 
them  in  these  walls  without  the  aid  of  steam  or  modern 
appliances.  Three  massive  walls  of  defense,  one  within 
another,  separate  the  castle  proper  from  the  surrounding 
barracks  and  parade-ground,  and  the  headquarters  are 
within  the  third  enclosure.  A  dapper  little  lieutenant  in 
spotless  white  uniform  received  our  party  at  the  temple- 
like headquarters  building,  one  scorching  August  morn- 
ing, and  conducted  us  through  a  fourth  wall,  and  up 
broad  stone  stair-ways  to  the  lookout  of  the  old  citadel. 
His  orderly  ran  ahead  with  field-glasses,  and  from  that 
airy  perch,  three  hundred  feet  above  the  city,  we  could 
look  over  an  immense  stretch  of  country  and  down  upon 
the  city  roof-tops,  from  which  the  air  rose  quivering  with 
heat.  At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  at  that  high  point 
the  air  was  intensely  hot,  and  the  stones  seemed  to  scorch 
our  feet ;  yet  up  there  was  a  well  of  deliciously  cool  water, 

33) 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

an  unfailing  supply  for  the  garrison  at  all  times  and 
through  many  sieges. 

Returning  to  headquarters  we'  met  the  commandant 
in  such  a  beautiful  snow-white  uniform,  covered  with  so 
many  fine  lines  of  white  braid,  as  must  make  any  man 
regret  having  to  lay  it  aside  for  the  dark  and  sombre 
winter  regimentals.  The  bowing  and  interchange  of  con- 
ventionally courteous  greetings  between  the  commandant 
and  the  two  Tokio  officials  whom  we  accompanied  was  a 
charming  exhibition  of  the  old  etiquette,  just  a  little  mod- 
ified by  the  new.  The  cool,  shady  room,  where  tea  and 
cake  and  wine  awaited  us,  had  been  built  on  the  founda- 
tions of  the  old  house  where  Hideyoshi  lived,  and  its  in- 
terior was  panelled  and  ceiled  with  wondrous  paintings 
and  carvings  brought  from  one  of  the  Taiko's  distant 
castles.  Before  it  stood  a  pine  -  tree,  planted  by  the 
daughter  of  that  Napoleon  of  Japan,  and  there  had  been 
enacted  the  brilliant  drama  of  feudal  life  which  Judith 
Gautier  has  immortalized  in  The  Usurper,  a  story  which 
invests  Osaka's  castle  with  romance. 

Then  we  spent  two  scorching  hours  in  the  gun-foun- 
dery  and  arsenal  outside  the  castle  walls,  where  the  ma- 
chinery was  German  from  Chemnitz  founderies,  and  the 
guns  were  made  on  Italian  models.  No  foreigners  were 
visible  about  the  place,  and  the  machinery  was  managed 
by  Japanese  workmen. 

Next  to  its  arsenal,  Osaka  takes  pride  in  its  mint, 
which  is  larger  and  better  supplied  with  machinery  than 
any  of  the  Government  mints  in  the  United  States.  An 
army  of  workmen  and  workwomen  in  uniform  tend  the 
machines,  and  melt,  cast,  cut,  stamp,  weigh,  and  finish 
the  coins,  which,  under  the  values  of  yens  and  sens,  cor- 
respond exactly  to  our  coinage  of  dollars  and  cents. 
The  mint  possesses  a  fine  collection  of  coins,  including 
the  coins  and  medals  of  all  countries,  as  well  as  a  com- 
plete set  of  Japanese  coins  from  the  earliest  days. 


Osaka  . 

Another  interesting  Government  institution  is  the  ba- 
zaar for  the  exhibition  and  sale  of  goods  of  Osaka  man- 
ufacture. All  Japanese  cities  have  these  hakurankwai 
(exposition),  but  no  other  is  on  so  great  a  scale  and  so 
crowded  with  beautiful  things  as  this  one.  There  one 
may  see  all  that  any  workshop  turns  out  or  any  dealer  has 
for  sale  without  the  tedious  process  of  bowing,  taking 
off  one's  shoes,  and  sitting  in  tailor-fashion  for  an  hour 
before  the  desired  articles  are  shown.  All  the  goods  are 
marked  in  plain  figures,  and  the  fixed  price  obviates  the 
bargaining  and  the  rattle  of  the  soroban.  There  is  an  ad- 
mission fee  of  a  few  coppers,  and  a  percentage  is  charged 
on  all  sales  to  support  the  institution.  One  may  spend 
a  day  in  the  labyrinth  of  rooms  studying  Osaka's  many 
industries;  and  everything,  from  gold  and  silver  ware, 
crapes,  brocades,  lacquers,  enamels,  porcelains  and  carv- 
ings to  food  preparations,  patent  medicines,  and  imita- 
tions of  foreign  goods,  is  to  be  found  there.  There  is 
even  a  department  of  plants  and  flowers,  a  hall  of  antiq- 
uities, a  section  of  toys,  acres  of  china  shops,  and  spec- 
imens of  everything  made,  sold,  or  used  in  that  bustling 
city.  Evening  brings  electric  lights  and  a  military  band, 
and  this  industrial  fair  is  made  popular  and  profitable 
all  the  year  round. 

Osaka  is  the  centre  of  great  iron,  copper,  and  bronze 
industries.  Its  artists  decorate  the  finest  modern  Sat- 
suma  in  microscopically  fine  designs,  and  the  mark  of 
Gioksen,  of  Osaka,  on  tiny  vase  or  koro  stamps  the  piece 
as  the  best  example  of  the  day.  The  soft  yellow  and 
richly- toned  wares  of  Idzumi  kilns  find  their  market 
through  Osaka,  and  the  carving  of  blackwood  into  cabi- 
nets and  stands,  or  mounts,  for  vases  and  tokonoma  or- 
naments, is  held  almost  as  a  monopoly  by  a  great  com- 
pany of  Osaka  artisans.  Its  book  trade  and  dry-goods 
trade  are  very  great,  and  its  chief  silk -store,  which  is 
still  purely  Japanese,  displays  the  choicest  fabrics  of 


Jinriktsha  Days  in  Japan 

Kioto  looms,  and  stuffs  that  only  after  much  searching 
are  seen  elsewhere.  The  straw  goods  trade  is  an  im- 
portant one,  and  its  paper  industries  are  on  an  even 
greater  scale.  Fans  are  exported  from  Osaka  by  mill- 
ions, the  United  States  taking  one  fan  for  each  inhab- 
itant of  the  great  republic. 

Stamped  leather  is  another  product  of  Osaka,  but  is 
chiefly  exported  to  Trieste,  to  be  made  up  there  and  at 
Vienna  into  the  pocket-books,  portfolios,  card  and  cigar 
cases  that  cost  so  much  in  American  jewelry  and  sta- 
tionery stores.  At  Toyono's,  the  largest  leather  factory, 
squares  of  stamped  leather  were  shown  us  in  more  than 
a  hundred  designs  of  bugs,  birds,  and  fish,  covering  the 
ground,  each  piece  of  leather  being  about  twenty-four 
inches  square,  and  selling  at  one  or  two  dollars  for  the 
single  piece.  Larger  pieces,  stamped  with  large  and  elab- 
orate designs  in  gold  or  colors,  and  used  for  the  foreign 
trade  as  panels  for  wall  decorations,  mounted  to  ten  and 
fifteen  dollars  each,  the  size  and  quality  of  the  leather 
and  work  of  the  artist  enhancing  the  price.  The  cost  of 
one  of  the  large  square  brass  dies  from  which  the  im- 
pressions are  made  averages  one  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars. In  the  old  days  the  two-feet-square  surface  of  brass 
could  be  engraved  in  the  finest  all-over  designs  for  half 
that  sum.  The  leather  is  stamped  from  these  dies  by  a 
hand-press,  and  after  the  stamping  workmen  sit  on  their 
heels  and  color  the  designs. 

An  industry  peculiar  to  Osaka  is  the  manufacture  of 
floor  rugs  of  cotton  or  hemp.  These  Osaka  rugs  were 
much  esteemed  in  feudal  days,  when  the  daimio  had  the 
monopoly  and  sent  them  as  gifts ;  but  in  these  prosaic 
days  a  stock  company  and  a  large  factory  supply  the 
home  market  and  the  great  foreign  demand  for  these 
inexpensive  and  pleasing  articles. 

Half  the  kairos  sold  in  Japan  are  marked  with  an 
Osaka  manufacturer's  name,  and  in  cold  weather  or  in 

336 


Osaka 

illness  the  possessor  of  the  kairo  calls  Osaka  blessed. 
For  be  it  known  that  the  kairo  is  a  little  tin  box  with 
perforated  sides  and  a  sliding  top  covered  with  cloth. 
Kairo  zumi  are  three-inch  paper  cases  filled  with  the 
finest  persimmon-leaf  charcoal.  You  light  one  end  of  a 
paper,  drop  it  in  the  kairo,  and  blow  it  until  it  glows  ; 
slip  the  cover  in  and  wrap  the  kairo  in  a  handkerchief 
or  special  bag.  The  little  charcoal  stick  will  burn  for 
three,  or  even  six  hours,  giving  a  steady,  even  heat  all 
the  time.  It  comes  in  many  sizes,  is  curved  in  many 
ways  to  fit  closely  to  the  body,  and  its  weight  is  al- 
most nothing.  The  commonest  kairo,  about  four  inches 
long  by  two  inches  high,  costs  three  or  five  cents,  ac- 
cording to  the  quality  of  cloth  pasted  over  it,  and  each 
package  of  the  zumi  costs  a  cent  and  a  half.  On  winter 
days  one  often  sees  the  Japanese  holding  kairos  in  their 
hands,  tucking  them  in  their  obis,  and  slipping  them 
down  their  backs.  They  are  serviceable  in  keeping 
dampness  out  of  the  piles  of  linen  in  house  -  keeper's 
closets,  and  at  night  they  assume  the  function  of  the  an- 
cient warming-pan.  In  America  it  has  been  considered 
only  as  a  toy,  a  muff-warmer,  or  a  pocket-stove.  But  its 
best  use  is  in  the  sick-room,  where  it  will  keep  a  poultice 
or  hot  cloth  at  an  even  heat  for  days.  A  chill,  a  cramp, 
or  a  rheumatic  pain  is  charmed  away  by  its  steady,  gen- 
tle heat ;  and  in  neuralgia,  bound  on  the  aching  nerves, 
it  soothes  them.  Headaches  have  been  known  to  yield 
to  it,  and  in  sea-sickness  the  kairo  overcomes  the  ago- 
nizing chills  and  relieves  the  suffering.  Our  heavy  rub- 
ber hot-water  bags,  that  are  always  leaking  and  suddenly 
cooling,  may  well  be  superseded  by  the  little  kairo. 

Osaka  has  curio-shops  that  are  small  museums  filled 
with  the  choicest  industrial  art  of  old  Japan,  and  this 
rich  commercial  city  rivals  Tokio  and  Kioto  in  its 
amusement  world,  and  has  a  theatre  street  a  mile  long. 
Its  theatres,  its  wrestlers,  its  maiko  and  geisha  are  as 

V  337 


yinrzkisha  Days  in  Japan 

well  known  as  its  industries,  and  its  jinrikisha  runners 
are  reckoned  the  swiftest  in  the  empire.  The  latter  spin 
over  the  stone-paved  streets  and  bridges  and  round  cor- 
ners at  a  terrifying  pace,  all  for  six  cents  an  hour,  and 
usually  speed  the  departing  guest  to  the  station  early 
enough  to  allow  him  a  half-hour  at  the  little  tea-houses 
in  the  park,  to  eat  cubes  of  the  superlative  Osaka  sponge- 
cake. The  maiko  and  geisha  of  this  southern  capital  are 
renowned  for  their  grace,  beauty,  and  wit ;  their  taste  in 
arranging  the  obi  and  dressing  the  hair ;  their  cleverness 
in  inventing  new  dances ;  and  the  entertainments  in 
which  they  figure,  under  the  lanterned  awnings  of  the 
house-boats  as  they  float  up  and  down  the  river  at  night, 
are  unique  among  such  f^tes. 

There  are  many  rich  and  splendid  temples  in  Osaka 
that  seem  to  have  suffered  little  since  the  protection  of 
the  Shogun  and  the  court  were  withdrawn.  Osaka,  To- 
kio,  and  Kioto,  the  three  capitals,  are  the  three  religious 
centres ;  and  the  Buddhist  establishments,  the  extensive 
yellow-walled  monastery  grounds  in  the  district  beyond 
the  Osaka  castle  are  worthy  of  a  capital.  The  numbers 
of  priests  in  the  streets,  the  thousands  of  summer  pil- 
grims, and  the  scores  of  shops  for  the  sale  of  temple  or- 
naments, altar  furnishings,  rosaries,  and  brocade  trian- 
gles for  the  shelf  of  household  images,  give  a  certain 
sacerdotal  aspect  to  the  busy  town.  One  temple  possesses 
many  relics  of  the  Forty-seven  Ronins,  and  at  its  annual 
matsuri,  when  these  are  exhibited,  the  surrounding  courts 
are  almost  impassable  with  the  crowds  and  the  merry 
fair.  The  twin  Monto  temples  are  splendid  structures, 
and  priests  from  the  Kioto  Hongwanjis  often  assist  in 
their  ceremonials. 

As  one  approaches  Osaka  from  Nara,  Tennoji's  roofs 
and  pagoda  are  seen  at  the  same  moment  with  the  castle 
towers.  This  pagoda  is  one  of  the  few  in  Japan  which 
visitors  are  allowed  to  climb,  and  contains  enough  wood 

338 


Osaka 

and  rough  timber  to  build  twenty  like  it  after  occidental 
methods.  Such  steep  and  clumsy  stairs  and  ladders  are 
harder  to  climb  than  mountains;  for  the  climber  crawls 
over  and  creeps  under  heavy  beams,  and  fairly  twists 
himself  upward,  getting  an  occasional  peep  down  the 
dark  well-hole,  where  the  builders'  secret  is  hidden.  Vis- 
itors wonder  how  pagodas  are  made  to  stand  in  an  earth- 
quake country,  and  why  these  spindling  edifices  should 
be  built  up  without  regard  to  the  inevitable  tremble,  un- 
til they  see  in  the  hollow  chamber,  or  well,  an  exagger- 
ated tongue  or  pendulum  hanging  from  the  topmost 
beams. 

This  tongue,  made  of  heavy  beams  bolted  together  in 
a  mass,  is  equal  to  about  half  the  weight  of  the  whole 
structure.  It  descends  nearly  to  the  base  of  the  pagoda, 
and  at  the  shock  of  an  earthquake  the  large  pendulum 
slowly  swings,  the  structure  sways,  and  settles  back  safely 
to  its  base. 

In  a  tall  sheathed  bell-tower  near  the  pagoda  there  is 
a  most  interesting  shrine  where  parents  hang  the  gar- 
ments of  sick  and  dying  children.  The  whole  interior  is 
filled  with  little  kimonos  and  bibs,  and  the  long  rope  of 
the  gong  overhead  is  covered  with  them,  while  tearful 
women  cluster  round  the  priests  in  the  small  interior, 
^nd  a  continuous  service  seems  to  go  on  before  the 
altar.  In  the  court-yard  a  large  stone  water-tank,  sunk 
a  few  steps  and  covered  with  a  pavilion  roof,  contains  a 
stone  tortoise  pouring  a  constant  stream  of  water  into 
the  reservoir,  on  whose  surface  the  faithful,  buying 
wooden  shavings  or  prayer-papers  from  the  priests,  cast 
these  petitions  and  go  away  content. 

Others  fill  little  bottles  with  the  water  and  carry  it 
home  as  a  specific  against  many  ills.  In  a  pond  near  by 
live  hundreds  of  turtles.  The  kame  climb  up  on  wooden 
platforms  in  the  pond  and  sun  themselves,  but  at  the 
clap  of  the  hand  and  the  sight  of  popped  beans  floating 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

about,  the  whole  colony  dive  off  and  swim  towards  their 
benefactor. 

All  around  Tennoji  are  the  yellow  walls  of  the  mon- 
asteries, with  miniature  moats 'and  heavy  gate-ways,  and 
this  quarter  is  a  religious  city  by  itself,  which  was  once 
a  separate  suburb  with  a  population  of  30,000. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV 
KOBE    AND    ARIMA 


Travellers  had  cause  to  rejoice  when  the  Tokaido 
railroad  made  it  a  twenty-four  hours'  journey  on  dry  land 
from  Tokio  to  Kobe,  the  foreign  settlement  adjoining 
the  ancient  town  of  Hiogo.  It  is  almost  always  a  miser- 
able trip  by  water,  notwithstanding  the  beauty  of  Fuji 
and  the  coast.  Chopping  seas,  cross-currents,  and  un- 
expected pitchings  and  motions  disturb  the  equilibrium 
even  of  an  old  sailor,  and  the  trip  to  Kobe  often  lays 
him  low,  while  smiling  skies  and  seemingly  smooth  wa- 
ters seem  to  make  a  mock  of  him.  When  typhoons 
sweep,  the  province  of  Kii  is  a  magnet  for  them,  and 
frightful  seas  rage  around  that  point  which  guards  the  en- 
trance to  the  Inland  Sea. 

Kobe,  as  the  port  of  Osaka  and  Kioto,  and  the  outlet 
of  the  great  Yamashiro  tea-district,  is  an  important  place 
commercially ;  its  growth  more  than  equalling  Yoko- 
hama's since  the  opening  of  the  port.  Beginning  with 
less  than  10,000  native  inhabitants  in  the  town  of  Hiogo 
m  1868,  it  had  risen  to  more  than  80,000  in  1887,  and  to 
215,786  in  1900.  The  foreign  trade  of  1888  amounted 
to  $42,971,976;  in  1900  to  $97,805,206,  of  which  $60,- 
144,764  were  imports,  and  $37,660,442  were  exports. 
Ships  of  all  nations  lie  at  anchor  in  its  busy  harbor,  and 

340 


Kobi  and  Arima 

the  many  American  sailing  vessels  that  come  out  loaded 
with  kerosene  return  with  cargoes  of  rags,  camphor,  and 
curios,  by  which  general  invoice  name  are  included  the 
cheaper  porcelains,  lacquers,  fans,  lanterns,  toys,  and  tri- 
fles made  for  the  foreign  trade. 

Kobe,  lying  at  the  head  of  the  Inland  Sea,  sheltered 
from  the  ocean,  and  screened  even  from  the  land  by  the 
low  range  of  mountains  back  of  it,  possesses  the  best 
and  driest  climate  of  any  of  the  treaty  ports  now  open 
for  the  residence  of  foreigners.  The  soil  is  sandy,  and 
the  site,  facing  southward,  enjoys  to  the  full  the  winter 
sun  and  summer  winds.  The  town,  beginning  in  lines 
of  houses  that  run  down  from  each  velvet,  green  ravine 
in  the  abrupt  hill-wall,  slopes  steeply  to  the  water's  edge, 
and  there  spreads  out  in  a  long  Bund,  one  part  of  which, 
lined  with  foreign  residences,  banks,  and  consulates,  is 
the  pride  of  Kob6.  This  foreign  Bund  is  much  less  pict- 
uresque than  the  native  or  Hiogo  Bund,  off  which  lie 
hundreds  of  curious  junks,  that  at  night  display  constel- 
lations of  softly  glowing  lanterns  on  their  masts,  while 
the  whole  harbor  and  hill-side  twinkle  with  open  lights, 
and  the  electric  search-lights  of  the  men-of-war  flash 
broad  rays  over  the  scene. 

At  the  end  of  the  native  Bund  Government  buildings 
close  the  street,  and  the  railway  wharf  and  sea-wall  follow 
a  long  point  of  land  that  runs  far  out  into  the  bay,  an  J 
is  capped  by  a  fortress  with  a  round  stone  tower  and  a 
light-house.  A  double  line  of  ancient  trees  marks  the 
course  of  the  Minatogawa,  which  centuries  ago  was 
turned  from  its  proper  channel  and  made  to  run  along 
this  high  embankment.  A  steep  slope  of  forty  feet  in 
some  places  leads  from  the  level  of  the  Hiogo  streets  to 
the  banks  of  this  watercourse,  which  are  turfed  over, 
shaded  with  rows  and  groves  of  pines  and  enormous 
camphor-trees,  and  made  gay  with  garden-plots  and  pict- 
uresque tea-houses.     The  dry  river-bed  is  a  playground 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yafian 

for  legions  of  children,  and  during  matsuris  it  is  crowded 
with  booths  and  side-shows.  Hiogo,  meaning  "  arsenal," 
figures  prominently  in  ancient  history,  and  here  Kusu- 
noki  Masashige,  that  ideal  hero  and  model  of  chivalric 
valor,  fought  the  last  battle  of  the  War  of  the  Chrysan- 
themums and  established  the  sovereignty  of  the  Empe- 
ror Go-Daigo  in  the  fourteenth  century.  Kusunoki's 
memory  is  worshipped  everywhere,  but  the  Nanko  tem- 
ple in  Hiogo  is  dedicated  to  his  memory,  and  on  anni- 
versary days  its  matsuris  are  brilliant  and  picturesque 
affairs.  Besides  this  great  Shinto  temple,  Hiogo  has  a 
Buddhist  establishment  of  equal  importance — the  Shin- 
koji,  outside  whose  sanctuary  sits  a  colossal  bronze 
Buddha  of  serene,  majestic  countenance,  its  granite 
pedestal  rising  as  an  island  in  the  midst  of  a  lotus 
pond. 

Properly  speaking,  the  Minatogawa  lies  in  Hiogo,  but 
where  ancient  Hiogo  ends  and  modern  Kobe  begins  no 
mortal  can  see.  The  Motomachi,  the  main  street  of 
Kobe,  winds  its  narrow  length  from  the  banks  of  the 
Minatogawa  to  the  Foreign  Concession,  beyond  which 
warehouses,  tea -firing  godowns,  and  foreign  residences 
stretch  and  spread  in  every  way  outside  the  narrow  lim- 
its of  the  tract  conceded  to  alien  residents  in  the  treaties. 
Kobe  means  "head,"  or  "gate  of  god,"  probably  in  ref- 
erence to  its  position  at  the  entrance  of  the  Inland  Sea. 
While  so  picturesquely  placed  it  is  the  model  foreign 
settlement  of  the  East,  and  the  municipal  council  —  a 
mixed  board  of  consular  and  native  officials — has  never 
allowed  its  right  to  that  fame  to  be  questioned.  A  pretty 
park  down  in  the  heart  of  the  Concession,  shaded  with 
ancient  camphor-trees  and  ornamented  by  hedges,  groups 
of  palms,  thatched  summer-houses,  and  a  bell-tower,  was 
once  the  execution  -  ground  of  Hiogo.  A  small  temple 
that  stood  near  it  has  given  way  to  a  large  tea-firing  go- 
down,  and  native  children  tumble  and  play  where  the 


Kob^  and  Arima 

headsman  used  to  bind  mutilated  bodies  or  ghastly  heads 
to  high  poles  and  set  them  up  at  the  corners,  after  imme- 
morial usage.  The  park,  or  recreation-grounds  for  the 
foreign  colony,  lies,  beside  the  long  embankment  of  an- 
other elevated  river-bed  on  the  opposite  side  from  the 
Minatogawa. 

Every  gap  in  the  Kobe  hills  leads  to  some  lovely  little 
valley,  and  orange  groves  dot  the  hill-sides.  In  one  green 
ravine  are  the  falls  of  Nunobiki,  where  a  clear  mountain 
stream  takes  two  long  plunges  down  sheer  granite  walls, 
drops  in  foaming  cascades  past  old  rice-mills,  and  courses 
on  over  the  sloping  plain  to  the  sea.  The  Moon  temple 
shines,  a  white  spot,  far  up  towards  the  summit  of  the 
steep,  green  mountain,  and,  with  the  more  accessible 
falls,  offers  the  two  favorite  points  for  visitors'  excur- 
sions. Farther  along  the  brow  of  the  hill  stands  the 
Gold  Ball  temple,  a  whitewashed  structure,  looking  like 
an  exaggerated  country  meeting-house,  with  its  roof  sur- 
mounted by  a  gilded  sphere,  and  with  nothing  even  sug- 
gesting Buddhism  in  its  appearance.  While  it  is  an  eye- 
sore to  every  one  else,  the  natives,  who  contributed  the 
money  to  build  this  monstrosity  of  what  they  consider 
foreign  architecture,  are  delighted  with  its  unique  and 
bizarre  appearance.  Around  it  lies  a  populous  grave- 
yard, many  of  the  stones  gray  with  the  mosses  of  centu- 
ries. Others,  newly  erected,  are  family  memorials,  bear- 
ing the  names  of  those  members  already  buried  there 
written  in  black  characters,  and  the  names  of  the  living 
in  red.  It  is  a  curious  custom ;  but  to  the  Japanese,  who 
even  point  with  pride  to  the  red  letters  of  their  own  names 
on  these  family  monuments,  it  is  rational  and  right.  Cre- 
mation is  the  funeral  rite  preferred,  and  up  a  narrow  val- 
ley behind  the  temple  is  the  crematory,  much  used  both 
by  rich  and  poor.  The  process  is  simple  and  inexpen- 
sive, and  the  visitor  always  encounters  some  funeral  train 
accompanying  a  body  to  that  little  white  temple  of  fire, 


Jinrikisha  Days  in   Japan 

or  some  family  group  bearing  the  ashes  down  to  the 
cemetery  for  final  rest. 

A  line  of  tea-houses  bands  the  brow  of  the  hill ;  in- 
numerable Shinto  shrines  lost  among  the  pine-trees  show 
their  long  lines  of  torii  at  the  edges  of  the  groves ;  and 
at  another  point  the  schools  and  homes  of  the  large 
American  missionary  colony  make  a  settlement  quite  to 
themselves. 

Kobe  is  almost  entirely  given  up  to  the  trade  in  cheap 
goods  for  the  foreign  market.  The  streets  are  lined  and 
the  shops  filled  with  such  porcelain,  bronze,  paper,  and 
lacquer  monstrosities ;  such  burlesques  of  embroidery 
and  nightmares  of  color  as  crowd  the  Japanese  stores  in 
the  cities  of  America,  chief  customers  of  this  trade.  One 
Chicago  importing  house  takes  more  of  such  goods  an- 
nually than  the  whole  kingdom  of  Belgium,  one  of  the 
oldest,  richest,  and  most  densely  populated  countries 
of  Europe.  The  curio-shops  proper  have  diminished  in 
numbers  as  the  rage  for  foreign  trade  increased,  until 
there  remains  almost  alone  the  establishment  of  an 
old  samurai,  who  still  retains  the  shaved  crown  and  gun- 
hammer  cue  of  his  class.  Despising  modern  ways  and 
business  signs,  this  one  simply  hung  a  huge  sword  over 
his  gate-way  and  left  his  customers  to  stumble  upon  him 
accidentally,  push  their  way  through  a  rubbish  and  lum- 
ber-room, and  pursue  their  unguided  path  across  the  gar- 
den. Of  recent  years  even  this  old  conservative  has 
relented  a  little  and  made  his  entrance  more  plainly  allur- 
ing ;  but  formerly  each  comer  felt  the  excitement  of  dis- 
covering some  jealously  hidden  treasure-house.  Within, 
there  is  still  a  room  full  of  old  saddles,  state  kagos, 
military  trappings,  and  banners ;  a  place  crowded  with 
spears,  lances,  and  color  standards;  a  chamber  piled  high 
with  brocade  gowns,  uniforms  and  temple  hangings; 
.  hundreds  of  carved  and  gilded  Buddhas,  divine  Kwan- 
nons  more  or  less  battered  and  worn,  and  hoards  of  old 


Kobd  and  Arima 

porcelain,  lacquer,  bronze,  and  carvings.  The  last  room 
looks  upon  a  little  garden  with  its  inevitable  miniature 
pond  crossed  by  a  stone  bridge  with  stone  lanterns,  and 
stunted  pines  on  the  slope  of  a  small  mountain.  Be- 
yond this  garden  are  more  stores  of  armor,  coins,  and 
ancient  things,  and  a  second  story  doubles  the  whole 
lower  labyrinth  of  the  place.  An  army  might  be  equipped 
from  this  magazine  of  military  stores,  or  a  pantheon  fitted 
out  with  Buddhas,  Kwannons,  Nios,  lesser  gods,  and 
gilded  images.  All  these  deities  are  certified  to  have 
come  from  the  Nara  or  Mount  Hiyeizan  temples,  which 
are  the  miraculous  sources  of  supply  of  everything  sacer- 
dotal in  this  part  of  Japan.  One  fortunate  tourist,  who 
bought  a  Buddha  of  Hari  Shin,  found  that  the  jewel  in 
the  forehead  was  a  diamond  instead  of  a  crystal,  which, 
when  cut  in  facets,  proved  to  be  worth  several  hundred 
dollars.  Of  this  incident  the  old  samurai  prefers  not  to 
talk,  and  to  change  the  subject  his  agile  son  refills  the 
tea-cups,  unrolls  more  kakemonos,  or  displays  the  swords 
and  helmets  "of  my  father's  young,  time." 

Through  Kob^  the  colored  straw  mosaics  of  Tajima 
province  on  the  west  coast  find  their  market,  as  well  as 
the  basket  wares  of  Arima,  a  village  lying  fifteen  miles 
inland.  One  goes  from  Kobd  to  Arima  by  jinrikisha, 
and  starting  in  the  dew  and  freshness  of  a  summer  morn- 
ing at  six  o'clock,  we  reached  the  grateful  shade  of  the 
Taiko's  maple  in  the  tea-house  garden  soon  after  nine. 
As  we  rose  by  degrees  through  the  suburbs  of  Kobe, 
and  drew  nearer  its  glorious  green  hill-wall,  we  had  a 
superb  view  of  the  opaline  bay,  set  with  the  black  hulls 
of  great  merchant  ships,  the  white  ones  of  foreign  men- 
of-war,  and  dotted  with  the  square  white  sails  of  hun- 
dreds of  junks  and  fishing-boats.  A  sudden  turn  in  the 
road  took  us  behind  the  sharp  spur  of  a  hill,  and  a  nar- 
row cafion  lay  before  us  with  the  road  clinging  to  one 
side  wall.     All  the  way  we  followed  watercourses — the 

345 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

road  now  in  some  wild  ravine,  and  again  running  up 
some  emerald  rice  valley.  All  the  way  we  met  primitive 
ox-carts  carrying  their  loads  down  to  Kobe,  each  driver 
bearing  an  equally  heavy  load  hanging  from  the  ends 
of  a  pole  across  his  shoulders.  The  oxen's  horns  were 
bound  with  fantastic  bits  of  red  cloth,  their  feet  shod 
with  straw  sandals ;  and  the  cart  was  braked  on  the 
slopes  by  the  main  force  and  strength  of  the  driver  ex- 
erted against  a  long  tongue  or  pole  that  also  served 
to  guide  it.  These  placid,  easy-going  oxen,  with  their 
hard-working  drivers  walking  beside  them,  afford  some 
of  the  best  pictures  of  the  old  road-side  scenes.  Small 
boys  trudged  at  their  fathers'  heels  with  bundles  of  bas- 
kets or  firewood  over  their  shoulders,  and  women  carried 
their  share  of  the  family  load. 

When  the  bamboo  groves  and  rice  fields  of  Arima's 
neighborhood  appeared,  the  paddy  fields,  lying  terrace 
below  terrace  on  a  rounding  hill-side  in  waving,  irregular 
lines,  easily  suggested  the  terraced  basins  around  the 
Yellowstone  hot  springs ;  the  Japanese  farmer  uncon- 
sciously repeating,  in  larger  outlines  of  vivid  green,  what 
the  overflowing  waters  have  built  up  in  snowy  deposits 
in  the  Montana  Park,  Arima,  which  lines  the  sides  of 
a  steep  gorge  through  which  a  wild  mountain  -  stream 
dashes,  is  as  picturesque  as  a  mountain  village  in  Swit- 
zerland. The  houses  are  built  almost  one  on  top  of 
another,  with  narrow,  winding  streets,  where  the  heavy 
projecting  roofs  almost  meet.  Stone  steps  ease  the 
steep  slopes  for  the  villagers,  and  the  clatter  of  clogs 
and  the  sight  of  the  peasants  going  up  and  down  the 
stair-ways,  half-hidden  by  the  loads  of  grass  or  straw  on 
their  backs,  recall  similar  pictures  in  the  crooked  little 
mountain  hamlets  of  Northern  Italy.  At  the  tea-house 
we  wandered  through  an  intricate  garden  before  reach- 
ing the  steps  of  the  detached  pavilion,  on  whose  balcony 

were  chairs  and  hammocks,  and  before  which  loomed  a 

346 


FARM   LABORERS 


Kobi  and  Arima 

perpendicular  green  mountain-wall  with  its  base  sunk  in 
the  feathery,  spray-like  tops  of  bamboo  groves.  To  us 
came  peddlers  and  packs  with  samples  of  everything 
the  town  could  offer,  and  the  rooms  were  soon  a  bazaar 
of  bamboo  wares. 

All  the  afternoon  we  roamed  about  Arima,  climbing 
its  steep  streets  and  threading  its  narrow  by-ways.  In 
the  glaring  white  sunlight  the  shops  were  caves  of  cool 
shadow,  and  we  found  them  filled  with  everything  that 
bamboo  will  make,  from  clothes-baskets  to  toothpicks, 
and  all  selling  for  a  song.  Their  weight  is  almost  noth- 
ing, but,  with  the  most  ingenious  packing,  the  space  they 
consume  makes  the  cost  of  shipment  to  America  equal 
that  of  production.  Except  the  necessaries  of  life,  noth- 
ing seems  to  be  sold  in  Arima  save  bamboo  baskets  and 
straw  work ;  and  every  house  is  a  basket-factory,  where 
father,  mother,  children,  and  almost  babes,  weave  bas- 
kets or  prepare  the  bamboo.  Heredity  asserts  itself 
again,  and  these  descendants  of  generations  of  basket- 
makers  work  with  a  dexterity  equalling  sleight-of-hand 
tricksters.  Arima's  industrial  life  is  a  fine  study  in  po- 
litical economy. 

The  hill -side  is  musical  with  the  boom  of  Buddhist 
bells  and  echoing  clang  of  Shinto  gongs ;  but  more 
strangers  toil  upward  for  a  drink  from  the  sparkling, 
ice-cold  soda  spring  beside  one  temple,  than  to  pray  at 
its  door-way.  For  centuries  Arima's  hot -springs  have 
wrought  their  cures,  and  sufferers  from  rheumatism  and 
skin  diseases  have  flocked  to  its  pools.  The  Govern- 
ment has  charge  of  the  springs,  and  the  waters  are  con- 
ducted to  a  large  bath-house  in  the  heart  of  the  village, 
where  free  baths  in  the  common  pool  are  open  to  every 
one,  and  where  private  baths  may  be  obtained  at  a  tri- 
fling charge. 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 


CHAPTER   XXXV 
THE    TEA    TRADE 

Since  Commodore  Perry  opened  Japan  to  the  world 
his  countrymen  have  been  consuming  more  and  more  of 
its  teas  each  year,  the  United  States  and  Canada  being 
almost  her  only  customers,  England  and  Russia,  the 
great  tea-drinking  countries  of  Europe,  buying  hardly 
enough  to  serve  as  samples.  Each  year  the  United 
States  pays  over  $3,000,000  for  the  nerve-racking  green 
tea  of  Japan.  Besides  the  price  of  the  tea,  a  trifle  of 
$13,000,000  goes  to  Japan  for  raw  silk  and  cocoons.  In 
return,  Japan  imports  from  America  $5,000,000  in  kero- 
sene, $13,000,000  in  raw  cotton,  and  $1,000,000  in  flour 
and  machinery.  In  1889  Japan's  imports  from  the  United 
States  amounted  to  $19,107,947,  and  its  exports  to  this 
country  to  $31,959,635,  while  its  imports  from  England 
had  a  value  of  $22,418,497,  and  its  exports  to  England 
$5,635,385,  a  balance  of  trade  disturbing  to  American 
commercial  pride.  Meanwhile  Russian  petroleum  arrives 
by  ship-loads,  and,  handled  by  the  largest  English  firm 
in  the  East,  is  being  pushed  and  sold  by  the  smallest 
retailers  at  less  than  the  Standard  Oil  Company's  fluid. 

The  tea -plant,  as  every  one  knows,  is  a  hardy  ever- 
green of  the  camellia  family.  It  grows  a  thick  and 
solidly-massed  bush,  and  at  a  first  glance  at  a  field  reg- 
ularly dotted  and  bordered  with  the  round  bushes  set- 
ting closely  to  the  ground,  one  might  easily  mistake  it 
for  box.  In  the  spring  the  young  leaves  crop  out  at 
the  ends  of  the  shoots  and  branches,  and  when  the 
whole  top  of  the  bush  is  covered  with  pale  golden-green 

350 


The  Tea   Trade 

tips,  generally  in  May,  the  first  picking  takes  place. 
The  second  picking  belongs  to  the  fire-fly  season  in 
June,  and  after  that  great  festival  tea  comes  in  from 
the  plantations  in  decreasing  quantities  until  the  end  of 
August,  The  choicer  qualities  of  tea  are  never  export- 
ed, but  consumed  at  home.  Choice  basket-fired  tea, 
such  as  is  used  in  the  homes  of  the  rich  and  well-to-do 
Japanese,  sells  for  one  and  two  dollars  a  pound.  There 
are  choicer,  more  carefully  grown  and  prepared  teas, 
which  cost  as  high  as  from  seven  to  ten  dollars  a  pound  ; 
but  such  teas  are  shaded  from  the  hot  suns  by  matted 
awnings,  and  the  picker,  going  down  lines  of  these  care- 
fully tended  bushes,  nips  off  only  the  youngest  leaves  or 
buds  at  the  tip  of  each  shoot.  The  average  tea,  bought 
by  the  exporters  for  shipment  to  the  United  States  and 
Canada,  is  of  the  commonest  quality,  and  according  to 
Japanese  trade  statistics,  the  average  value  is  eleven  cents 
a  pound  as  it  stands,  subject  to  the  export  duty  and  ready 
for  shipment  abroad.  There  are  often  sales  of  whole 
cargoes  of  Japan  tea  at  auction  in  New  York  for  fifteen 
cents  a  pound.  Families  who  buy  this  same  brand  from 
their  grocers  at  forty  or  sixty  cents  a  pound  may  judge 
to  whom  the  greater  profits  accrue. 

Japan  tea  came  into  market  as  a  cheaper  substitute 
for  the  green  teas  of  China,  those  carefully  rolled  young 
hysons  and  gunpowders  of  our  grandmothers'  fancy.  Eu- 
rope has  never  received  the  Japan  teas  with  favor,  but 
the  bulk  of  American  importations  is  Japanese,  and  the 
taste  for  black  tea  is  being  cultivated  very  slowly  in  the 
great  republic.  For  green  tea,  the  leaves  are  dried  over 
hot  fires  almost  immediately  after  picking,  leaving  the 
theine,  or  active  principle  of  the  leaf,  in  full  strength.  For 
black  tea,  the  ledves  are  allowed  to  wilt  and  ferment  in 
heaps  for  from  five  to  fourteen  days,  or  until  the  leaf  turns 
red,  and  the  harmful  properties  of  theine  have  been  partly 
destroyed.   The  Oolong  tea  of  South  China  is  nearest  to 

3S> 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yaj>an 

green  tea,  its  fermentation  being  limited  to  three  or  five 
days  only,  while  the  richly-flavored  black  teas  of  North 
China,  from  the  Hangkow,  Ningchow,  and  Keemung  dis- 
tricts, are  allowed  to  ferment  for  twice  that  period  to  pre- 
pare them  for  the  Russian  and  English  markets.  The 
choicest  of  these  black  teas  go  to  Russia,  a  part  of  the 
crop  still  being  carried  by  camel  trains  from  the  end  of  the 
Grand  Canal  near  Pekin  to  the  terminus  of  the  trans-Si- 
berian railway.  It  is  also  shipped  by  steamers  to  Odessa ; 
and  as  the  tea  is  thoroughly  fired  and  sealed  in  air-tight 
packages,  it  makes  no  difference  in  the  quality  of  the  in- 
fusion afterwards  whether  the  te^-chests  were  jolted  by 
camel  caravans  from  Tungchow  to  Irkutsk,  or  pitched 
about  in  a  ship's  hold — much  as  caravan  tea  is  celebrated 
in  advertisements  for  the  American  public. 

The  Japanese  Government  made  experiments  in  the 
manufacture  of  black  tea  in  the  province  of  Ise,  but  the 
results  were  not  satisfactory,  and  no  further  efforts  have 
been  made  to  compete  in  that  line  with  China.  Japan 
will  continue  to  furnish  the  world's  supply  of  green  tea, 
but  as  the  demand  for  such  stimulants  declines,  a  great 
problem  will  confront  its  tea-farmers. 

Kobe  and  Yokohama  are  the  great  tea  ports,  each  one 
draining  wide  districts,  and  their  streets  being  fragrant 
with  the  peculiarly  sweet  odor  of  toasting  tea-leaves  all 
summer  long. 

At  Kobe  thirteen  firmp,  of  which  only  two  are  Ameri- 
can, are  engaged  in  the  tea-trade.  In  Yokohama  there 
are  twenty -eight  firms,  thirteen  being  English,  eleven 
American,  two  German,  and  two  Japanese.  One  American 
firm  has  invented  machinery  for  firing  and  coloring  the 
tea,  the  leaves  being  tossed  and  turned  by  inanimate  iron 
instead  of  by  perspiring  coolies.  About  a  half-dozen 
firms  now  employ  machinery  for  drying  and  coloring  this 
green  tea,  but  all  of  them  also  use  the  old  hand  process, 
and  toast  the  leaves  over  charcoal  pans.     Several  thou- 

352 


The  Tea  Trade 

sand  men,  women,  and  even  children  are  busily  employed 
during  the  four  months  of  the  busy  season — May,  June, 
July,  and  August.  A  steam  saw-mill,  set  up  by  a  specu- 
lative American,  makes  a  business  of  supplying  tea-chests 
to  these  firms,  although  some  still  depend  on  their  own 
carpenters.  The  matting  and  the  sheets  of  lead  for  cov- 
ering and  lining  the  boxes  come  from  China.  Each  firm, 
too,  has  a  little  art  and  printing  establishment  attached, 
where  the  gaudy  labels  for  chests  and  cans  are  block- 
printed.  One  firm  often  has  a  hundred  different  pic- 
torial labels  for  its  packages  of  tea,  that  number  of  names 
being  applied  to  the  one  kind  of  tea  shipped. 

Of  each  consignment  made,  a  sample  can  of  tea  is  for- 
warded by  mail,  while  a  duplicate  sample  can  is  retained 
by  the  exporter. 

The  young  tea-leaves  picked  in  May  and  early  June 
comprise  more  than  half  of  the  whole  season's  crop,  suc- 
ceeding growths  of  leaves  being  coarser  and  having  less 
flavor.  This  tea,  picked  by  women  and  children  in  the 
fields,  is  roughly  dried  in  shallow  baskets  lined  with  pa- 
per over  charcoal  fires,  and  is  then  sold  to  commission 
dealers  in  the  interior  towns  and  villages.  They  sort  it 
into  grades,  toast  it  once  more,  and  ship  it  to  the  treaty 
ports  in  rough  paper  sacks,  boxes,  and  baskets.  Some 
of  it  comes  by  junks  to  Yokohama.  Over  and  over  the 
tea  is  tested  by  sample  infusions  and  the  leaves  care- 
fully inspected.  All  summer,  at  the  exporting  houses, 
the  tea -tasters  are  busy  with  their  rows  of  white  cups. 
A  certain  weight  of  leaves  is  put  in  each  cup,  the  boil- 
ing water  is  poured  on  and  allowed  to  stand  for  five 
minutes.  The  expert  notes,  meanwhile,  the  color  of  the 
liquid  and  the  aroma,  carefully  watches  the  unrolling  of 
the  leaves,  and  then  tastes  the  brew  by  slow  sips,  medi- 
tatively, discriminatingly.  The  tea-taster  takes  care  to 
swallow  very  little,  as  its  effects  are  disastrous  in  time. 
Tea-tasters  as  a  rule  follow  their  business  but  a  few 

Z  3S) 


yinrikisha  Days  in  yapatl 

years,  severe  nerve  and  stomach  trouble  being  brought 
on  by  the  constant  sipping  of  so  much  powerful  stimu- 
lant. Of  course  they  command  high  salaries.  Astonish- 
ing stories  are  told  of  the  acuteness  of  their  sense  of 
taste  and  the  certainty  of  their  judgments.  Their  deci- 
sion sets  the  price,  and  the  dickering  with  the  Japanese 
commission  merchant  is  always  settled  by  the  tea-taster's 
estimates. 

In  the  tea-firing  godowns  the  dried  leaves  are  stacked 
in  heaps  as  high  as  a  haystack,  when  it  makes  a  solid, 
cohesive  mass,  that  can  be  cut  off  like  hay  with  a  patent 
hay-knife.  In  nearly  every  case  the  firing  is  superin- 
tended by  a  Chinese  compradore,  and  his  assistants  are 
Japanese. 

The  tea-firers  bring  their  cooked  rice  and  their  own 
teapots  with  them,  and  snatch  refreshment  whenever 
there  is  a  lull  in  the  work.  They  are  searched  at  night 
when  they  leave,  and  with  the  sweet  simplicity  of  chil- 
dren they  keep  on  trying  to  secrete  the  leaves,  always 
being  caught  at  it.  Their  work  consists  in  standing  over 
round  iron  pots  sunk  in  a  brick  framework  for  the  thir- 
teen hours  of  a  day's  work,  and  stirring  and  tossing  tea- 
leaves.  There -are  charcoal  fires  under  the  iron  pans, 
and  all  day  they  must  lean  over  the  hot  iron  and  brick. 
The  tea  is  given  this  extra  firing  to  dry  it  thoroughly 
before  its  long  sea-trip,  and  at  the  same  time  it  is  "pol- 
ished," or  coated  with  indigo,  Prussian  blue,  gypsum,  and 
other  things  which  give  it  the  gray  lustre  that  no  dried 
tea-leaf  ever  naturally  wore,  but  that  American  tea-drink- 
ers insist  on  having.  Before  the  tea-leaves  are  put  in 
the  pans  for  the  second  firing  men,  whose  arms  are  dyed 
with  indigo  to  the  elbows,  go  down  the  lines  and  dust  a 
little  of  the  powder  into  each  pan.  Then  the  tossing  and 
stirring  of  the  leaves  follows,  and  the  dye  is  worked  thor- 
oughly into  them,  the  work  being  regulated  by  overseers, 
who  determine  when  each  lot  has  been  fired  enough.    It 


The   Tea   Trade 

requires  a  certain  training  to  keep  the  tea-leaves  in  con- 
stant motion,  and  it  is  steady,  energetic  work. 

This  skilled  labor  is  paid  for  at  rates  to  make  the 
Knights  of  Labor  groan,  the  wage  list  showing,  how- 
ever, a  rise  in  the  scale  of  prices  since  the  fall  in  the 
price  of  silver  and  the  increased  cost  of  living  through- 
out Japan.  During  the  four  busy  months  of  the  tea 
season  the  firers  are  paid  the  equivalent  of  fourteen 
and  sixteen  cents,  United  States  gold,  for  a  day's 
work  of  thirteen  hours.  Less  expert  hands,  who  give 
the  second  firing,  or  polishing,  receive  twelve  cents 
a  day.  Those  who  sort  and  finally  pack  the  tea, 
and  who  work  as  rapidly  and  automatically  as  ma- 
chines, get  the  immense  sum  of  twenty  cents  a  day. 
Whole  families  engage  in  tea-firing  during  the  season, 
earning  enough  then  to  support  them  for  the  rest  of  the 
yeaf;  or,  rather,  pinching  for  the  rest  of  the  year  on  what 
they  earn  during  this  brief  season.  In  autumn  little  tea 
is  fired,  but  the  whole  force  of  workmen  can  be  had  at  the 
shortest  notice,  though  the  godown  may  have  been  closed 
for  weeks.  One  compradore,  notified  at  eleven  o'clock 
at  night  that  tea  must  be  fired  the  next  day  to  fill  a 
cable  order,  had  four  hundred  coolies  on  hand  at  day- 
break, many  of  them  summoned  after  midnight  from 
their  villages,  distant  over  seven  miles  from  the  godowns. 
This  mysterious  underground  telegraphy  in  the  servants' 
quarters  is  one  of  the  astonishing  things  of  the  East. 

Tea-firing  begins  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
coolies  clattering  into  the  settlements  on  their  wooden 
clogs  at  dawn,  and  going  home  at  dusk.  They  wait  pa- 
tiently outside  the  compounds  until  the  lordly  Chinaman 
comes  to  summon  as  many  workers  as  he  wants  for  the 
day,  whether  two  hundred,  three  hundred,  or  four  hun- 
dred. All  these  guilds  in  the  Orient  have  their  estab- 
lished rules  of  precedence  among  themselves ;  each  one 
knows  his  rights  and  his  place,  and  desperate  as  may  be 

3S5 


finrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

their  need  of  the  small  pittance,  there  is  no  pushing  or 
fighting.  Foreigners  who  live  near  godowns  complain 
of  the  babble  of  the  coolies  before  daylight,  and  a  tea- 
firing  godown  always  declares  its  nearness  by  the  con- 
fused hum  of  the  several  hundred  cheerful  voices  all  day 
long.  The  Japanese  lower  classes  are  the  most  talkative 
people  under  the  sun,  and  rows  of  jinrikisha  coolies 
never  sit  quietly  in  waiting,  like  the  red-nosed  Parisian 
cabmen,  dozing  or  reading  feuilletons,  but  are  always 
jabbering,  laughing,  playing  games  and  tricks  on  one 
another.  The  long,  hot  day's  work  does  not  check  the 
tea-firers'  loquacity  in  the  least,  and  at  dusk  they  are  as 
sociable  as  at  dawn.  One  frenzied  resident,  whose  door- 
steps, window-sills,  and  shady  curb-stones  were  favorite 
resting-places  for  the  tea -firing  coolies,  determined  to 
know  the  subjects  discussed  with  such  earnestness  and 
sonorous  phrases.  His  interpreter  reported  on  three 
consecutive  mornings  that,  for  three-  mortal  hours,  one 
group  of  ten  coolies,  sitting  on  patient  heels,  cheerfully 
discussed  the  coming  rice  crop. 

Philanthropists  see  fit  to  drop  a  tear  over  the  lives  of 
the  workers  in  the  tea-godowns,  although  these  victims 
seem  as  cheerful  and  well  satisfied  with  their  lot  as  hu- 
man beings  can  be.  The  women  and  young  girls  are 
rather  picturesque  with  their  blue  cotton  towels  folded 
over  their  heads,  and  as  the  Japanese  have  remarkably 
pretty  hands,  the  play  of  their  fingers  in  the  moving 
streams  of  tea -leaves  is  pleasant  to  watch.  How  they 
endure  the  slow,  killing  heat  of  the  charcoal  fires  in  tor- 
rid weather,  on  their  diet  of  tea,  rice,  and  shreds  of  cold 
fish,  is  a  marvel  to  indolent,  meat-eating  foreigners.  The 
pathetic  sights  are  the  women  with  young  babies  on  their 
backs  trudging  home  from  the  godowns  at  sunset,  the 
babies  having  been  danced  around  on  the  backs  of  older 
children  in  the  godown-yard  all  day,  or  laid  down  in  some 
safe  corner  near  the  mother's  charcoal-pan.     I  asked  a 

356 


The  Tea  Trade 

most  humane  woman  once  why  charity  did  not  take  the 
form  of  a  creche,  or  day  nursery.  The  answer  was  that 
it  would  be  impossible  to  support  such  an  institution  in  v 
so  small  a  community  of  foreigners.  Each  godown  would 
need  a  large  creche  of  its  own  ;  the  poor  women  could  not 
afford  to  spare  a  half-penny  of  their  earnings,  and  the 
problem  must  solve  itself. 

If  man  cannot  live  by  bread  alone,  many  foreign  resi- 
dents live  by  tea  alone,  and  live  luxuriously.  Great  fort- 
unes are  made  quickly  in  the  tea  trade  no  longer,  as  in 
earlier  days.  Romance  departed  with  the  clipper  ships, 
and  the  cable  and  freight  steamers  reduced  the  tea  trade 
to  prosaic  lines.  Only  the  best  and  most  experienced 
men  now  succeed  in  this  trade,  but  the  tea -merchant 
toils  in  his  counting-room  and  godown  only  from  April 
to  October.  Then  he  closes  and  locks  it  all  behind  him, 
and  usually  goes  over  to  the  United  States  to  look  after 
his  interests  and  orders  there.  Tea  has  its  fluctuations, 
like  corn  or  cotton,  although  it  is  a  crop  that  never  fails, 
with  the  added  disadvantages  of  the  great  distance  from 
the  final  markets  and  the  expensive  cable  communica- 
tions to  make  it  uncertain  and  full  of  speculation.  As 
it  takes  fifty  days  for  the  fast  tea  steamers  to  reach  New 
York  by  way  of  the  Suez  Canal,  the  tea -picking  season 
is  over  when  the  exporter  learns  of  the  arrival  and  sale 
of  his  invoices.  On  account  of  the  heavier  freight  charges 
that  way,  only  a  fraction  of  the  crop  crosses  the  Pacific 
to  be  shipped  by  rail  across  the  continent  from  San 
Francisco,  the  New  York  steamers  by  way  of  the  Suez 
Canal  requiring  but  a  little  longer  time,  saving  half  the 
cost  to  the  shipper,  and  adding  the  convenience  of  a 
single  handling  of  the  cargo. 

The  first  of  the  season's  crop  is  fired  and  hurried  off 
as  quickly  as  possible ;  tea  steamers  racing  through  Suez 
to  New  York,  and  the  overland  railroads  rushing  cargoes 
aaoss  the  United  States  in  special  trains,  as  if  they  were 

3S7 


yinrikisha  Days  in   Japan 

perishable.  With  the  exception  of  the  Pacific  Mail 
steamers  running  to  San  Francisco,  English  and  Japan- 
ese ships  carry  all  this  tea  to  America.  The  tea  steam- 
ers discharging  cargo  at  New  York  usually  load  there  for 
Liverpool,  and  arrive  in  Japan  in  time  for  the  next  season, 
or  sometimes  make  two  trips  to  New  York  in  one  season. 
While  the  tea  is  moving  freights  are  high,  but  in  the  au- 
tumn they  decline.  Sailing  vessels  no  longer  carry  tea, 
and  the  glory  of  the  American  fast  clipper  ships  is  but  a 
tradition,  a  romance  of  the  Eastern  trade.  The  greatest 
market  for  Japan  teas  in  America  is  now  centering  at 
Chicago  instead  of  New  York,  and  prophetic  tea-mer- 
chants expect  to  have  San  Francisco  become  the  head- 
quarters and  great  distributing-point. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI 
THE    INLAND    SEA   AND    NAGASAKI 

In  making  six  trips  through  the  Inland  Sea  I  have 
seen  its  beautiful  shores  by  daylight  and  moonlight  and 
in  all  seasons  —  clothed  in  the  filmy  green  of  spring, 
golden  with  ripened  grain  or  stubble,  blurred  with  the 
haze  of  midsummer  heat,  and  clear  in  the  keen,  midwin- 
ter winds  that,  sweeping  from  the  encircling  mountains, 
sting  with  an  arctic  touch. 

My  first  sail  on  its  enchanted  waters  was  a  September 
holiday,  the  dim  horizon  and  purple  lights  prophesying 
of  the  autumn.  From  sunrise  to  dark,  shadowy  vistas 
opened,  peaceful  shores  slipped  by,  and  heights  and 
islands  rearranged  themselves.  The  coast  of  south- 
eastern Alaska  is  often  compared  to  the  Inland  Sea,  but 
the  narrow  channels,  wild  canons,  and  mountain -walls 
of  the  Alaska  passage  have  no  counterpart  in  this  Arca- 

358 


The  Inland  Sea  and  Nagasaki 

dian  region.  The  landlocked  Japanese  water  is  a  broad 
lake  over  two  hundred  miles  long,  filled  with  islands, 
and  sheltered  by  uneven  shores.  Its  jagged  mountains 
of  intensest  green  nowhere  become  wild  enough  to  dis- 
turb the  dream -like  calm.  Its  verdant  islands  lie  in 
groups,  the  channel  is  always  broad  and  plain,  and  signs 
of  human  life  and  achievement  are  always  in  sight. 
Along  the  shores  stretch  chains  of  villages,  with  stone 
sea-walls,  castles,  and  temples  soaring  above  the  clus- 
tered roofs  or  peeping  from  wooded  slopes,  and  the  ter- 
raced fields  of  rice  and  grains  ridging  every  hill  to  its 
summit  and  covering  every  lower  level.  Stone  lanterns 
and  torii  mark  the  way  to  temple  groves,  and  cemeteries 
with  ancient  Buddhas  of  granite  and  bronze  attest  that 
these  little  communities  are  centuries  old.  Junks  and 
sampans  lie  anchored  in  fleets,  or  creep  idly  across  the 
water,  and  small  coasting  steamers  thread  their  way  in 
and  out  among  the  islands.  The  railway  follows  the 
west  shore  of  the  .sea,  touching  many  old  castle  towns, 
most  important  of  which  is  Hiroshima,  whose  great  cita- 
del is  army  headquarters,  and  was  occupied  by  the  Em- 
peror during  the  war  of  1894-95.  The  chief  naval  sta- 
tion of  the  empire  is  at  Kure,  a  few  miles  away,  and  the 
naval  college  is  on  the  island  of  Elajima.  The  sacred 
island  of  Miajima,  facing  Hiroshima,  is  one  of  the  San- 
kei,  or  three  most  beautiful  sights  of  Japan.  Miajima  is 
more  enchanting  and  idyllic  than  Nnra,  and  offers  more 
of  landscape  beauty,  of  picturesque  architecture,  of  his- 
toric and  legendary  interest  than  the  others  of  the  San- 
kei — either  "  the  thousand  pine-clad  islands  of  Matsu- 
shima,"  in  the  bay  of  Sendai,  or  "  the  Bridge  of  Heaven," . 
the  fairy  peninsula  of  Ama-no-Hashidate,  in  the  bay  of 
Miyazu.  No  one  has  been  born,  no  one  has  been  al- 
lowed to  die,  on  Miajima,  and  formerly  no  woman  could 
set  foot  there,  although  the  great  temple  and  its  galler- 
ies, built  on  piles  in  the  water  and  approached  by  boats 

359 


Jtnrikisha  Days  in   Japan 

through  a  giant"  torii  in  the  water,  is  dedicated  to  the 
Shinto  goddess,  Itsukushima,  and  her  two  sisters.  Hun- 
dreds of  votive  lanterns  line  the  shores  and  are  fre- 
quently lighted ;  sacred  deer  roam  everywhere,  and  the 
place  is  so  idyllic  and  peaceful  that  one  cannot  realize 
that  every  wooded  point  and  height  conceals  a  battery, 
and  that  sketching  and  photographing  within  this  forti- 
fied area  are  as  rigorously  prohibited  as  in  France  and 
Germany. 

At  Shimonoseki,  the  Inland  Sea  ends,  and  ships  pass 
out  by  the  narrowest  of  its  channels  —  a  channel  that 
boils  with  tide-rips  and  across  which  a  chain  once  held 
all  craft  at  bay.  New  forts  replace  the  old  ones  bom- 
barded by  the  combined  English,  Dutch,  French,  and 
American  fleets  in  September,  1868.  The  "  Shimono- 
seki Affair"  is  conspicuous  in  the  annals  of  the  scandal- 
ous diplomacy  and  international  bullying  that  has  con- 
stituted the  policy  of  Christian  nations  in  their  relations 
with  Japan.  The  United  States  did,  indeed,  make  a  late 
and  lame  apology  for  its  disgraceful  share  in  the  plun- 
dering of  a  weaker  people,  by  restoring  its  portion  of 
the  indemnity,  thus  tardily  acknowledging  the  injustice 
of  its  conduct. 

As  travel  increases,  the  harbor  of  Nagasaki  will  be 
everywhere  known  as  one  of  the  most  picturesque  in 
the  world.  Green  mountains,  terraced  and  wooded  to 
their  very  summits,  have  parted  far  enough  to  let  an 
arm  of  the  sea  cleave  its  way  inland,  and  chains  of  isl- 
ands with  precipitous  shores  guard  the  entrance  of  the 
tortuous  reach.  The  town  seems  to  have  run  down 
from  the  ravines  and  spread  itself  out  at  the  end  of  the 
inlet,  and  temples,  tea-houses,  and  the  villas  of  foreign 
residents  cling  to  the  hill-side  and  dot  the  groves  on  the 
heights. 

Nagasaki  lost  commercial  importance  for  some  years 
after  the  opening  of  the  port  of  Kobe,  since  that  took 

360 


The  Inland  Sea  and  Nagasaki 

the  tea  trade  to  the  upper  end  of  the  Inland  Sea,  around 
which  lie  the  great  tea  districts  of  Japan.  Its  coal 
mines  and  its  million-dollar  dry-dock  make  it  a  harbor 
that  no  ships  pass  by,  more  vessels  entering  annually 
than  at  Yokohama.  The  American  occupation  of  the 
Philippines,  the  events  occurring  in  China  in  1900,  the 
progress  and  completion  of  the  Trans-Siberian  Railway, 
and  the  development  of  Vladivostock  and  Dalny  have 
all  greatly  increased  the  business  of  Nagasaki,  which 
now  looks  upon  the  busiest  and  most  crowded  harbor 
of  Japan.  It  is  coal  and  supply  station  for  all  fleets,  the 
American  soldier  scatters  money  wildly  when  transports 
anchor,  and  a  large  Russian  colony  comes  down  from  the 
frozen  North  each  winter.  The  picturesqueness  of  Naga- 
saki has  appealed  to  the  novelist  and  short-story  writer, 
and  certain  villas  and  tea-houses  have  romantic  interests. 

Its  people  are  conservative  and  cling  to  old  customs 
tenaciously.  The  old  festivals  are  kept  up  with  as  much 
spirit  as  ever,  and  boat-loads  of  farmers  praying  for  rain 
often  make  Nagasaki's  harbor  ring  with  their  shouts  and 
drum  -  beating.  Twenty  of  these  rustics,  sitting  by  the 
gunwales  in  one  long  boat,  and  paddling  like  so  many 
Indians  in  a  war-canoe,  go  up  and  down  the  narrow  fiord 
waving  banners  and  tasselled  emblems. 

While  the  inhabitants  kept  it,  Nagasaki's  observance 
of  the  Bon,  the  festival  of  the  dead,  was  even  more  pict- 
uresque than  the  Daimonji  of  Kioto.  On  the  night  when 
Nagasaki's  spirits  were  doomed  to  return  to  the  place 
of  th»  departed,  lights  twinkled  in  all  the  graveyards, 
and  the  mourners  carried  down  to  the  water's  edge  tiny 
straw  boats  set  with  food  offerings.  These  they  lighted 
and  started  off;  and  the  tide,  bearing  the  frail  flotilla 
here  and  there,  finally  swept  it  out  to  sea  —  a  fleet  of 
fire,  a  maze  of  floating  constellations.  Many  junks  and 
bridges  were  burned  on  these  festival  nights,  and  the 
authorities  have  forbidden  the  observance, 

36. 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

While  Nagasaki  was  the  first  port  opened  to  foreign- 
ers, it  now  has  fewer  foreign  residents  than  any  other. 
There  are  large  mission  establishments,  but,  outside  of 
their  community,  the  society  open  to  the  consuls  and 
merchants  is  very  limited  when  the  harbor  is  empty  of 
men-of-war.  Their  villas  on  the  heights  are  most  luxu- 
rious, and  the  views  these  command  down  the  narrow 
fiord  and  out  to  the  ocean  entrancing.  Life  and  move- 
ment fill  the  harbor  below.  Ships,  junks,  and  sampans 
come  and  go ;  bells  strike  in  chorus  around  the  anchor- 
age-ground ;  whistles  echo,  bands  play,  saluting  and  sig- 
nalling flags  slip  up  and  down  the  masts,  and  the  bang 
and  long -rolling  echo  of  the  ships'  guns  make  mimic 
war.  At  night  the  harbor  lights  are  dazzling,  and  the 
shores  twinkle  to  the  very  hill-tops.  The  crowded  masts 
of  native  junks  are  as  trees  hanging  full  of  golden,  glow- 
ing spheres,  and  electric  flash-lights  from  the  men-of-war 
illuminate  sections  of  hill  and  town  and  harbor  niches. 

The  Nagasaki  winter  is  delightful — clear,  bright,  sun- 
ny days  continually  succeeding-  each  other  ;  but  in  sum- 
mer-time the  climate  leaves  much  to  be  desired.  The 
air  is  heavy  with  moisture,  and  when  the  thermometer 
registers  90°  there  is  a  steamy,  green-house  temperature 
that  encourages  the  growth  of  the  hundred  varieties  of 
ferns  that  amateur  botanists  collect  on  these  hills.  This 
damp  heat  is  exhausting  and  wearing,  trying  to  temper 
and  patience,  and  annihilating  to  starch  and  artificial 
crimps.  Man's  energy  fails  with  his  collar,  and  although 
all  the  sights  of  the  empire  were  just  over  the  hill,  the 
tourist  would  miss  them  rather  than  go  to  see  them. 
Everything  mildews  then ;  boots  taken  off  at  night  are 
covered  with  green  mould  in  the  morning,  gloves  spot 
and  solidify,  and  fungi  gather  on  any  clothing  packed 
away.  Every  morning,  on  balconies  and  clothes-lines,  is 
aired  and  sunned  the  clothing  that  nevertheless  mildews. 
Only  a  strong  sense  of  reverence  for  a  hero's  memory 

362 


The  Inland  Sea  and  Nagasaki 

can  then  lead  one  up  the  terraces  of  the  public  gardens 
near  the  O  Suwo  temple  to  see  the  tree  that  General 
Grant  set  out.  When  he  came  to  Nagasaki,  both  the 
General  and  Mrs.  Grant  planted  trees  to  commemorate 
the  visit,  and  his  autograph  certificate  recording  the 
event  was  cut  in  fac-simile  on  the  face  of  the  large, 
irregular  stone  between  the  two  saplings.  Though  the 
trees  have  been  most  carefully  tended,  one  died  and  had 
to  be  replaced,  but  both  now  promise  to  spread  into  a 
generous  shade.  At  the  tea-house  where  the  great  Japan- 
ese dinner  was  given  by  the  local  governor,  with  maiko 
and  geisha  and  jugglers  performing  between  the  courses, 
they  still  preserve  the  floor-cushion  on  which  their  illus- 
trious guest  was  seated,  and  bring  it  out  to  show  to  fa- 
vored Americans.  To  the  Japanese,  General  Grant  and 
Commodore  Perry  mean  America ;  nor  could  we  have 
sent  them  better  types  than  the  great  sailor  who  peace- 
ably opened  Japan  to  the  world,  and  the  greater  soldier 
who  made  use  of  war  only  to  insure  enduring  peace. 

The  Portuguese  and  Dutch  have  left  records  of  their 
occupancy  here  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centu- 
ries. Francis  Xavier  and  the  Jesuit  fathers  who  suc- 
ceeded him  converted  thousands  of  Japanese  to  Chris- 
tianity, and  though  it  had  been  supposed  that  the 
persecutions  and  tortures  under  lyeyasu  had  destroyed 
the  Christians,  the  ppening  of  the  country  after  the 
Restoration  discovered  whole  communities  of  them  near 
Nagasaki,  who  retained  their  belief,  wore  the  peculiar 
dress  prescribed  for  them  by  the  Jesuits,  knew  the  prayers 
and  forms,  and  made  the  sign  of  the  cross.  Nothing  in 
the  Book  of  Martyrs  exceeds  the  tortures  and  suffering 
of  these  Christians,  who  would  not  deny  their  religion, 
nor  tread  upon  the  paper  picture  of  Christ,  as  they 
were  bidden  to  do.  The  tradition  goes  that  at  Pappen- 
berg,  the  precipitous  little  island  at  the  mouth  of  the 
harbor,  thousands  of  converts  were  forced  by  spear- 

363 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

points  into  the  sea,  but  the  best  scholars  and  authorities 
now  discredit  this  wholesale  horror,  of  which  no  trust- 
worthy record  exists. 

From  1 641  the  Dutch  lived  as  prisoners  on  the  little 
island  of  Deshima,  where  the  porcelain  bazaar  now  stands, 
suffering  incredible  restrictions  and  humiliations  for  the 
sake  of  monopolizing  the  trade  of  the  country.  Naga- 
saki's children  and  beggars  still  follow  strangers  with 
the  shout,  '''■Hollander  san !  Hollander  san!"  as  a  re- 
membrance of  those  first  foreign  residents,  and  in  curio- 
shops  queer  clocks  and  ornaments  show  the  adaptation 
and  imitation  of  many  Dutch  articles  by  the  Japanese. 

The  fact  of  Nagasaki's  being  only  a  port  of  call  makes 
its  curio  market  fluctuate  in  proportion  to  the  number 
of  merchantmen  and  men-of-war  in  port.  When  the 
harbor  is  full,  no  resident  visits  the  curio-shops,  whose 
prices  always  soar  at  such  times.  Tortoise-shell  carv- 
ing is  a  great  industry  of  the  place,  but  porcelain  is  still 
the  specialty  of  this  southern  province,  where  the  art  was 
first  introduced.  Those  wares  of  South  Japan  known 
anciently  as  Nabeshima  and  Hirado  are  the  finest  of 
Japanese  porcelains,  their  blue  and  white  beauty  being 
simply  perfect.  The  potters  who  brought  the  art  from 
Korea  and  China  settled  in  Satsuma  and  Hizen,  and 
the  kilns  of  Arita  and  Kagoshima  are  still  firing.  The 
Dutch  carried  the  Arita  ware  to  Europe  under  the  name 
of  Hizen.  This  porcelain  is  now  more  commonly  term- 
ed Imari,  while  Deshima  is  another  general  name  for 
the  modern  product,  and  Nabeshima  and  Hirado  are 
the  words  used  by  connoisseurs  in  vaunting  precious 
wares.  This  confusion  of  names  misleads  the  traveller, 
who  cannot  at  once  discern  that  Hizen  is  the  name  of 
the  province ;  Arita  of  the  town  where  the  potters  live 
and  the  kilns  are  at  work ;  Imari  of  the  port  from  which 
it  is  shipped;  Nabeshima  the  family  name  of  that  daimio 
of  Hizen  who  brought  the  potters  from  Korea ;  and  Hi- 

364 


The  Inland  Sea  and  Nagasaki 

rado  of  the  daimio,  whose  factory  at  Mikawaji,  near  Ari- 
ta,  produced  the  exquisite  pieces  coveted  by  all  of  his 
fellow-daimios.  Modern  Imari  ware  is  much  too  fasci- 
nating and  tempting  to  the  slender  purse,  but  when  one 
acquires  a  fondness  for  the  exquisite  porcelains  the  old 
Nabeshima  made  for  themselves,  learns  the  comb-like 
lines  and  the  geometrical  and  floral  marks  on  the  under- 
side that  characterize  them,  and  is  aroused  to  the  per- 
ception of  the  incomparable  "  seven  boy  "  Hirado,  his 
peace  of  mind  is  gone.  Genuine  old  Hirado  vases  or 
plates,  with  the  seven  boys  at  play,  or  even  five  boys  or 
three  boys,  are  hardly  to  be  bought  to-day,  and  the  count- 
less commercial  imitations  of  the  old  designs  do  not  de- 
ceive even  the  amateur  connoisseur.  Old  Satsuma  is  even 
rarer,  and  a  purchaser  needs  to  be  more  suspicious  of  it 
in  Japan  than  in  London.  It  is  true  that  the  air  is  full 
of  tales  of  impoverished  noblemen  finally  selling  their 
treasures ;  of  forgotten  godowns  being  rediscovered ;  and 
of  rich  uncles  leaving  stores  of  Hirado  and  Satsuma  to 
poor  relations,  whose  very  rice-box  is  empty.  But  the 
wise  heed  not  the  voice  of  the  charmer.  The  credulity 
of  the  stranger  and  the  tourist  is  not  greater  than  the 
ignorance  of  residents  who  have  been  in  the  country  for 
years  without  learning  to  beware  of  almost  everything  on 
which  the  Emperor's  chrysanthemum  crest,  the  Tokugawa 
trefoil,  or  the  Satsuma  square  and  circle  stand  conspic- 
uous. 

The  fine  modern  Satsuma,  all  small  pieces  decorated 
in  microscopically  fine  work,  is  painted  chiefly  by  a  few 
artists  in  Kioto  and  Osaka,  and  their  work  and  signa- 
tures are  easily  recognized.  The  commoner  Satsuma  — 
large  urns,  koros,  vases,  and  plates  —  is  made  in  the 
province  of  Satsuma  and  in  the  Awata  district  of  Kioto, 
but  it  is  decorated  anywhere — Kob^,  Kioto,  Yokohama, 
and  Tokio  all  coating  it  with  the  blaze  of  cheap  gilding 
that  catches  and  delights  the  foreign  eye.     Once  upon 

36$ 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

a  time  ship- loads  of  porcelains,  bronzes,  and  lacquer 
were  sold  for  a  song;  fine  bells  going  for  ship  ballast, 
and  ships'  cooks  using  veritable  old  Satsuma  jars  to  put 
their  drippings  in.  But  that  time  is  not  now.  A  collec- 
tion of  old  Satsuma  lately  gathered  up  in  Europe  by  a 
Japanese  buyer  brought  five  times  its  cost  when  disposed 
of  in  Japan.  Some  notion  of  the  wealth  of  art  works, 
and  of  the  great  stores  the  country  contained  in  the 
old  days,  may  be  conveyed  by  the  drain  of  these  twenty 
years,  since  Japanese  art  began  to  revolutionize  the  art 
world.  The  Restoration,  the  Satsuma  rebellion,  the 
adoption  of  foreign  dress  for  the  army  and  the  court, 
each  sent  a  flood  of  rare  things  into  the  curio  market, 
and  hard  times  still  bring  forth  treasures.  The  great 
collectors  and  connoisseurs  are  now  so  generally  known 
that  sacrifices  of  choice  curios  are  made  directly  to  them 
by  private  sale,  and  not  in  the  open  market.  Govern- 
ment has  begun  to  realize  the  irrecoverable  loss  of  the 
country,  and  the  necessity  of  retaining  what  still  re- 
mains, and  lists  and  photographs  are  being  made  of  all 
art  treasures  stored  in  the  Government  and  temple  go- 
downs  throughout  the  empire.  Much  has  been  de- 
stroyed by  fire,  of  course,  and  it  is  said  that  the  priests 
themselves  have  put  the  torch  to  their  temples  at  the 
approach  of  the  official  commission  that  would  have  dis- 
covered what  priceless  temple  treasures  they  had  sold 
in  times  of  need.  All  the  Buddhist  establishments  suf- 
fered loss  of  revenues  after  the  Restoration,  and  only 
by  secretly  disposing  of  the  sacred  objects  in  the  go- 
downs  were  many  priests  kept  from  starvation. 

While  the  Dutch  were  there,  Nagasaki  had  a  large 
trade  with  China,  and  still  does  a  great  business  with 
that  country  in  the  exportation  of  dried  fish.  It  smells 
to  heaven  all  along  the  Bund,  and  in  the  court-yards  of 
the  large  warehouses  men  and  women  turn  in  the  sun 
and  pack  into  bags  oblong  brown  things  that  might  be 

366 


The  Inland  Sea  and  Nagasaki 

either  the  billets  of  wood  used  in  cricket,  or  old  boot- 
soles.  These  hard  blocks  are  the  dried  bonito  which, 
shaved  on  a  plane,  stewed,  and  eaten  with  rice,  are  a 
staple  of  food  in  both  countries,  and  not  unpalatable,  as 
we  found  while  storm-bound  on  Fuji. 

Almost  all  the  coal  used  in  China  and  Japan,  and  by 
the  Asiatic  fleets  of  the  different  nations,  comes  from  the 
mines  on  the  island  of  Takashima,  at  the  entrance  of 
Nagasaki's  fiord-like  harbor.  Cargoes  of  it  have  been 
sent  even  to  San  Francisco  with  profit,  although  this  soft 
and  very  dirty  fuel  is  much  inferior  to  the  Australian 
coal.  The  Takashima  mines  and  the  dry- dock  at  Na- 
gasaki are  owned  by  the  Mitsu  Bishi  company,  which 
retained  those  properties  when  it  sold  its  steamship  line 
to  the  Government,  and  the  coal-mine  brings  in  two 
million  yen  a  year  to  its  owners.  Its  deepest  shaft  is 
only  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  down,  and  barges  carry 
the  coal  from  the  mouth  of  the  shafts  to  the  waiting  ships 
in  harbor. 

In  1885,  the  year  of  the  great  cholera  epidemic,  the 
village  of  mining  employ<?s  was  almost  depopulated.  The 
harbor  was  nearly  deserted,  the  American  and  English 
mission  stations  were  closed,  and  the  missionaries  and 
their  families  fled  to  Mount  Hiyeizan.  Only  the  Cath- 
olic fathers  and  the  nuns  remained,  much  to  the  concern 
of  the  governor  and  officials,  who  begged  them  to  go. 
On  our  way  to  China  we  touched  at  Nagasaki  while  the 
epidemic  was  at  its  height,  but  no  passenger  was  allowed 
to  go  ashore,  and  all  day  we  kept  to  the  decks  that  were 
saturated  with  carbolic  acid.  It  took  si.x  hours  to  coal 
the  ship,  and  from  noon  to  sundown  we  beheld  a  water 
carnival.  As  the  first  coal-barge  drew  near,  a  man  in  the 
airy  summer  costume  of  the  harbor  country — which  con- 
sisted of  a  rope  around  his  waist— jumped  over  the  side 
and  swam  to  the  stern  of  our  steamer.  He  was  like  a 
big,  brown  frog  kicking  about  in  the  water,  and  when  he 

367 


yinrikiska  Days  in  Japan 

came  dripping  up  the  gang-way  the  faithful  steerage  stew- 
ard gave  him  a  carbolic  spraying  with  his  bucket  and 
brush.  The  barge  was  hauled  up  alongside  and  made 
fast,  and  our  consignment  of  coal  was  passed  on  board 
in  half-bushel  baskets  from  hand  to  hand  along  a  line 
of  chanting  men  and  women.  Nothing  more  primitive 
could  be  imagined,  for,  with  block,  tackle,  windlass,  steam, 
and  a  donkey  engine  on  board,  it  took  a  hundred  pairs 
of  hands  to  do  their  work.  At  the  end  of  each  hour 
there  was  a  breathing  spell.  Many  of  the  women  were 
young  and  pretty,  and  some  of  them  had  brought  their 
children,  who,  throwing  back  the  empty  baskets  and 
helping  to  pass  them  along  the  line,  thus  began  their 
lives  of  toil  and  earned  a  few  pennies.  The  passengers 
threw  to  the  grimy  children  all  the  small  Japanese  coins 
they  possessed,  and  when  the  ship  swung  loose  and  started 
away  their  cheerful  little  sayonaras  long  rang  after  us. 


CHAPTER    XXXVII 
IN    THE    END 


And  after  a  foreigner  has  spent  months  or  years  in 
the  midst  of  these  charming  people,  what  has  he  discov- 
ered them  to  be  ?  What  does  the  future  hold  for  them  ? 
To  what  end  did  Commodore  Perry  precipitate  upon 
them  the  struggle  and  ferment  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury ?  The  present  generation  ceasing  to  be  what  their 
forefathers  were,  what  do  they  expect  of  their  descend- 
ants ?  Is  our  world  thoroughly  to  occidentalize  them, 
or  will  they  slowly  orientalize  us  ?  Which  civilization  is 
to  hold,  and  which  is  the  better  ?  These  are  the  unsolv- 
able  problems  that  continually  confront  the  thoughtful 
observer. 

368 


In  the  End 

The  Japanese  are  the  enigma  of  this  century  ;  the  most 
inscrutable,  the  most  paradoxical  of  races.  They  and 
their  outward  surroundings  are  so  picturesque,  theatrical, 
and  artistic  that  at  moments  they  appear  a  nation  of 
poseurs — all  their  world  a  stage,  and  all  their  men  and 
women  merely  players ;  a  trifling,  superficial,  fantastic 
people,  bent  on  nothing  but  pleasing  effects.  Again,  the 
Occidental  is  as  a  babe  before  the  deep  mysteries,  the 
innate  wisdom,  the  philosophies,  the  art,  the  thought,  the 
subtle  refinements  of  this  finest  branch  of  the  yellow 
race.  To  generalize,  to  epitomize  is  impossible  ;  for  they 
are  so  opposite  and  contradictory,  so  unlike  all  other 
Asiatic  peoples,  that  analogy  fails.  They  are  at  once 
the  most  sensitive,  artistic,  and  mercurial  of  human  be- 
ings, and  the  most  impassible,  conventional,  and  stolid ; 
at  once  the  most  logical,  profound,  and  conscientious, 
and  the  most  irrational,  superficial,  and  indifferent ;  at 
once  the  most  stately,  solemn,  and  taciturn,  and  the 
most  playful,  whimsical,  and  loquacious.  While  history 
declares  them  aggressive,  cruel,  and  revengeful,  experi- 
ence proves  them  yielding,  merciful,  and  gentle.  The 
same  centuries  in  which  was  devised  the  elaborate  re- 
finement of  cha  no  yu  saw  tortures,  persecutions,  and 
battle-field  butcheries  unparalleled.  The  same  men  who 
spent  half  their  lives  in  lofty  meditation,  in  indicting 
poems,  and  fostering  art,  devoted  the  other  half  to  gross 
pleasures,  to  hacking  their  enemies  in  pieces,  and  watch- 
ing a  hara  kiri  with  delight.  Dreaming,  procrastinating, 
and  referring  all  things  to  that  mythical  mionichi  (to-mor- 
row), they  can  yet  amaze  one  with  a  wizard-like  rapidity 
of  action  and  accomplishment.  The  same  spirit  which 
built  the  Shinagawa  forts  during  the  three  months  of 
Commodore  Perry's  absence  at  times  animates  the  most 
dilatory  tradesmen  and  coolies. 

There  is  no  end  to  the  surprises  of  Japanese  character, 
and  the  longer  the  foreigner  lives  among  them  the  less 

»A  169 


Jinrikisha  Days  in   Japan 

does  he  understand  the  people,  and  the  less  doTiis  facts 
contribute  to  any  explanation.  Their  very  origin  is  mys- 
terious, their  Ainos  the  rock  on  which  ethnologists  foun- 
der. Their  physical  types  present  so  many  widely  differ- 
ing peculiarities  that  one  cannot  believe  in  any  common 
source,  or  in  the  preservation  of  the  race  from  outside 
influences  for  so  many  centuries.  Some  coolie  possesses 
the  finely-cut  features,  perfectly-modelled  surfaces,  and 
proudly-set  head  of  a  Roman  emperor.  Some  peer  ex- 
hibits the  features,  the  stolidity,  and  the  slow,  guttural 
articulation  of  a  Sioux  Indian,  and  it  is  common  to  see 
coolies  identical  in  figure  and  countenance  with  the  na- 
tive races  of  the  north-west  coast  of  America.  One  group 
of  children  might  come  from  an  Alaskan  village,  and  in 
another  group  frolic  the  counterparts  of  Richter's  fisher 
boys  of  Italy.  At  times  the  soft,  musical  speech  flows 
like  Italian  ;  at  other  times  it  is  rough  and  harsh,  and 
rumbles  with  consonants. 

Their  very  simplicity,  their  childlike  naivete,  deceives 
one  into  a  conviction  of  their  openness,  while  a  myste- 
rious, invisible,  unconquerable  barrier  rises  forever  be- 
tween us  and  them.  The  divergence  of  life  and  thought 
began  in  Western  Asia  too  many  ages  since  for  the  races 
that  followed  the  setting  sun  to  find,  at  this  late  day,  the 
clew  to  the  race  that  sought  the  source  of  the  sun's  rising. 
China,  which  once  gave  the  Japanese  their  precepts  and 
models  and  teachers,  shows  now  more  differences  than 
resemblances.  Far  as  the  pupils  have  departed  from 
the  traditions  of  the  instructor,  there  yet  remains  a  celes- 
tial conservatism,  a  worship  of  dry  formality,  and  a  re- 
spect for  the  conventional  which  the  new  order  over- 
comes but  slowly.  The  missionaries  in  China,  who  have 
to  contend  against  the  apathy  or  open  hostility  and  the 
horrible  surroundings  of  the  native  population,  greatly 
admire  the  Japanese,  and  envy  their  colleagues  who  live 
in  'SO  beautiful  a  country,  among  so  clean,  courteous,  and 

370 


In  the  End 

friendly  a  people,  so  eager  to  learn  and  so  quick  to  ac- 
quire. It  is  true  that  foreign  merchants  and  officials  in 
China  laud  the  superior  qualities  of  the  Celestial,  and 
infer  a  superficiality  and  want  of  seriousness  in  the  Jap- 
anese; but  the  alien  who  has  dwelt  in  Japan  experiences 
a  new  homesickness  when  he  exchanges  a  Japanese  port 
for  one  across  the  Yellow  Sea,  with  "  Nanking  "  instead 
of  "  Nippon  "  servitors  about  him.  The  Japanese  make 
an  unconscious  appeal  to  a  sentiment  deeper  than  mere 
admiration,  but  the  secret  of  the  fascination  they  exer- 
cise defies  analysis. 

Politically  and  socially,  the  Japanese  copy  the  exam- 
ples of  the  western  world  ;  and  the  Restoration,  with  its 
consequences,  furnishes  the  most  astonishing  political 
problem  of  the  century.  The  sudden  abandonment  of 
the  old  order,  the  upspringing  of  a  whole  nation  armed 
cap-a-pUm  modern  panoply  of  peace,  has  been  too  amaz- 
ing to  be  at  once  accepted,  at  least  among  Europeans,  as 
a  real  and  permanent  condition  of  things.  If  Europe 
cannot  take  the  United  States  seriously  after  a  whole 
century  of  steadfastness,  much  less  can  it  comprehend 
an  alien  nation  like  Japan  in  a  brief  score  of  years. 

A  constitution  and  a  parliament  have  been  volunta- 
rily given  to  a  people  who  had  hardly  chafed  under  au- 
tocratic forms,  or  even  demanded  a  representation.  Its 
military  and  naval  establishments,  its  police  organiza- 
tion, and  its  civil  service  are  modelled  upon  the  best  of 
many  foreign  models.  Its  educational  system  is  com- 
plete, an  admirable  union  of  the  best  of  American,  Eng- 
lish, and  German  methods.  Its  postal  establishment, 
its  light-houses,  telegraphs,  railways,  hospitals  equal  those 
of  the  West.  And  all  this  was  accomplished,  not  by 
slow  growth  and  gradual  development,  the  fruit  of  long 
need,  but  almost  overnight,  voluntarily,  and  at  a  wave 
of  the  imperial  magician's  wand. 

This  new  birth,  this  sudden  change  from  feudalism 

S7> 


Jtnrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

and  the  Middle  Ages  to  a  constitutional  Government 
and  the  nineteenth  century  of  Europe  and  America,  is  a 
unique  spectacle.  This  spectacle  —  this  unparalleled 
efifort  of  a  people  to  lay  aside  what  they  were  born  to 
reverence  and  follow,  because  alien  customs  seemed  to 
promise  a  greater  good  to  a  greater  number — this  spec- 
tacle, which  should  have  challenged  the  admiration,  the 
sympathy,  and  the  generous  aid  of  western  nations — 
has  been  met  almost  by  their  opposition.  A  weaker 
people  groping  towards  the  light,  learning  by  the  saddest 
experiences,  has  been  hampered,  bound,  and  forced  from 
its  chosen  way  by  the  Christian  nations,  who  have  taken 
every  shameful  advantage  of  superior  strength  and  as- 
tuteness. Unjust  treaties  were  forced  upon  the  Japan- 
ese at  a  time  when  they  could  not  protest,  and  when 
they  could  neither  understand  nor  foresee  the  workings 
of  them.  Backed  by  a  display  of  naval  strength,  these 
treaties  were  pressed  upon  the  little  nation,  and  by  the 
bully's  one  argument  a  revision  of  these  unjust  agree- 
ments has  been  denied  them  for  these  thirty  years ;  al- 
though the  Japan  of  to-day,  its  conditions  and  institu- 
tions are,  in  no  one  particular,  what  they  were  at  the 
time  of  the  first  negotiations.  Pathetic  have  been  the 
struggles  of  citizens  and  statesmen,  while  the  most  high- 
spirited  of  races  has  been  forced  to  submit  to  political 
outrages  or  face  the  consequences  of  war — the  imposi- 
tion of  yet  harder  terms  by  their  oppressors.  Limited 
in  its  revenues  by  these  very  treaties,  Japan  can  the  less 
consider  war  with  unscrupulous  western  powers.  The 
povernment,  in  its  efforts  to  secure  foreign  training  for 
its  people,  has  been  fleeced,  imposed  upon,  and  hood- 
winked, through  its  ignorance  of  foreign  ways.  Reluc- 
tantly admitting  the  perfidy  of  one  people,  the  Japanese 
have  turned  to  another.  In  consequence,  they  are  be- 
rated for  their  fickleness  and  love  of  change,  and  taunt- 
ed with  the  fact  that  American,  English,  and  German 

37? 


In  the  End 

influences,  successively,  have  been  uppermost  at  court, 
and  their  languages  and  customs  successively  fashion- 
able. The  Germans,  to  our  shame  be  it  said,  have  dealt 
with  them  more  honorably  than  any  other  people,  and 
the  present  triumph  of  German  interests  has  been  well 
deserved. 

The  ambition,  the  courage,  and  persistency  of  this 
small  nation,  in  the  face  of  such  hindrances,  is  wonder- 
ful ;  and  their  struggles  with  strange  tongues,  strange 
customs,  and  strange  dress,  all  at  once,  were  heroic.  In- 
different critics  ascribe  this  peaceful  revolution  to  a  love 
of  novelty  and  an  idle  craze  for  foreign  fashions.  They 
claim  that  it  is  but  a  phase,  a  fleeting  fancy,  a  bit  of  mas- 
querading, to  be  abandoned  when  the  people  weary  of 
it,  or  attain  their  ends.  But  fickleness  is  not  the  charac- 
teristic of  thousands  of  persons  of  one  race,  pursuing  the 
same  objects  for  thirty  years ;  nor  could  a  nation  of  such 
taste  and  intelligence  adopt  and  adhere  to  strange  cus- 
toms for  the  mere  sake  of  novelty.  Prophecies  of  retro- 
gression discredit  themselves,  now  that  a  whole  genera- 
tion has  grown  up  to  whom  the  new  is  the  established 
order.  Japanese  youths,  educated  and  trained  abroad, 
have  returned  home  to  fill  the  places  of  foreign  instruc- 
tors and  managers.  Each  year  fewer  and  fewer  foreign- 
ers are  needed  in  Government  departments  and  institu- 
tions. *'  Japan  for  the  Japanese  "  is  a  familiar  cry.  The 
desire  for  enlightenment  and  the  impulse  towards  prog- 
ress were  the  result  of  forces  already  acting  from  within, 
long  before  Commodore  Perry's  black  ships  came  to  an- 
chor in  Mississippi  Bay,  and  still  potent  as  then. 

In  this  day  the  way  to  distinction  and  power  is  open  to 
the  humblest.  There  is  a  baton  in  every  knapsack,  an  im- 
perial councillor's  star  in  every  school-room.  The  mer- 
chant has  been  ennobled,  the  samurai  have  sat  at  the 
Emperor's  table,  the  eta  walks  free,  the  equal  of  other  citi- 
zens, and  the  humblest  peasant  has  inviolable  civil  rights. 

37) 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

Women  have  come  out  of  their  guarded  seclusion,  and 
enjoy  a  social  existence  and  importance  and  a  legal 
equality,  and  their  educational  opportunities  are  ever 
enlarging.  Marriage  laws,  divorce  laws,  and  property 
laws  secure  to  them  rights  greater  than  some  European 
women  hold.  The  family  life  and  authority  remain  un- 
changed, and  the  privacy  of  the  home  is  jealously  guard- 
ed, no  foreigner  penetrating  to  that  sacred  centre.  The 
family  ceremonies  and  festivals  are  observed  as  punctil- 
iously as  ever.  The  nobility  and  the  official  class  lead 
the  social  life  of  Europeans,  but  the  conservatism  of  the 
middle  or  merchant  class  still  clings  to  the  old  order, 
which  another  century  may  find  almost  unchanged. 

The  art  of  Japan  has  already  revolutionized  the  west- 
ern world,  leaving  its  impress  everywhere.  The  quick 
appropriation  of  Japanese  ideas  and  expressions  marks 
an  era  in  the  Occident  as  distinct  as  that  of  the  Renais- 
sance. For  all  her  giving  with  full  hands,  we  can  return 
nothing  to  this  most  art-loving  of  nations.  Western  ex- 
amples and  teachings,  and  the  ignorant  demands  of  west- 
ern trade,  have  wrought  artistic  havoc  in  the  Island  Em- 
pire. Wherever  foreign  orders  have  been  received,  the 
simplest  work  has  so  deteriorated,  has  been  so  vulgar- 
ized and  cheapened,  that  recognized  efforts  are  now 
making  to  arrest  this  degradation  of  the  national  art. 
Cultivated  Japanese,  appalled  at  this  result  of  western 
teachings,  encourage  artists  and  artisans  in  the  study  of 
national  masterpieces  and  the  practice  of  the  old  methods, 
and  the  labors  of  these  public-spirited  citizens  are  ably 
seconded  by  the  Government.  The  foreign  professor  of 
drawing,  with  his  hard  pencils  and  his  plaster  casts,  is  a 
functionary  of  the  past.  To-day  the  youth  of  Japan  holds 
to  his  own  writing-brush,  and  begins,  as  aforetime,  with 
the  one  stroke,  two  stroke,  and  three  stroke  sketches  that 
lie  at  the  root  of  the  old  masters'  matchless  art  Strange- 
ly enough,  all  perception  of  the  beauty  and  relation  of 


In  the  End 

color  seems  to  leave  the  Japanese  when  they  use  foreign 
materials.  The  people  who  have  all  their  lives  wrought 
and  used  and  worn  the  most  harmonious  combinations 
of  color  in  their  garments  and  household  goods,  will  ex- 
ecute monstrosities  in  Berlin  wools  in  place  of  the  rich 
old  fukusa,  and  combine  the  crudest  and  most  hostile 
hues  with  unconcern.  The  very  use  of  foreign  furnish- 
ings or  utensils  seems  to  abate  the  national  rage  for 
cleanliness,  and  in  any  tea-house  that  aspires  to  be  con- 
ducted in  foreign  fashion,  one  discovers  a  dust,  disorder, 
shabbiness,  and  want  of  care  that  is  wholly  un-Jap- 
anese. 

Nor  in  other  ways  has  contact  with  foreigners  wrought 
good  to  these  people.  Conservative  families  have  been 
mortified  and  humiliated  by  what  seems  to  them  the 
roughness  and  vulgarity  of  the  manners  of  their  sons 
and  daughters  who  had  been  educated  abroad.  Many 
gentlemen  even,  in  Tokio,  long  refused  their  daughters 
a  foreign  education  for  this  reason.  The  mission-schools 
for  girls  found  it  necessary  to  engage  masters  of  cha  no 
yu  and  of  native  deportment  and  etiquette,  to  instruct 
the  pupils  in  their  charge.  Among  the  lower  classes 
the  decay  of  courtesy,  under  foreign  influences,  was 
rapid.  The  bold,  impertinent,  ill-mannered  coolies  and 
nesans  of  the  treaty  ports  are  as  unlike  as  possible  to 
the  same  people  in  interior  or  remoter  towns. 

If  the  people  are  to  lose  their  art,  the  fine  finish  of  their 
manners,  the  simplicity  of  living,  all  the  exquisite  charm 
of  their  homes.  Commodore  Perry  should  be  rated  as  their 
worst  enemy.  If  they  refine  and  make  better  what  they 
now  receive  from  the  Occident,  as  they  did  with  what 
China  gave  them  long  ago,  is  it  not  possible  that  Japan 
will  surpass  the  world  in  the  next  century?  Already 
the  art  workshop  of  the  globe,  has  it  no  greater  mission, 
as  travel  brings  all  countries  nearer  together,  than  to 
become  the  play-ground  and  holiday  country  of  all  na- 

375 


Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan 

tions,  occupying  the  same  relation  to  both  hemispheres 
that  Switzerland  does  to  Europe  ? 

Surely  some  better  lot  than  that  awaits  this  charming 
people,  who  so  quickly  win  the  admiration,  sympathy, 
and  affection  of  the  stranger  that  is  within  their  gates. 


INDEX 


Actors,  96,  97,  283, 

Ainos,  370. 

Akamatsu,  Mr.,  239. 

Akasaka,  125. 

Alaska,  358,  370. 

Aleshine,  Mrs.,  2. 

Aleutian  Islands,  2. 

Amado,  141,  144,  162,  323. 

Amah,  24,  174. 

Amenomori,  Mr.,  139. 

Amida,  230,  238,  251. 

Andons,  90,  141. 

Anthem,  the  National,  116. 

Arashiyama,  252,  253. 

Arima,  345,  346,  349. 

Arimatitu,  204,  205. 

Arisugawa,  Prince  Takehito,  124. 

Arita,  364. 

Armor,  106,  2IO,  212,  237,  249, 

275.  329.  344- 
Arnold,  Sir  Edwin,  95. 
Art,  Club,  Tokio,  50. 

Commission,  Imperial,  312, 

Japanese,  50,  374. 

327,  328. 
Asahiko,  the  Empress  Dowager, 

123. 

Prince  Kuni,  128. 

Asakusa,  47,  51,  52. 

Ashikaga,  250,  251. 

Atago  Yama,  49. 

Attu,  Island  of,  2. 

Awata,  228,  235,  269,  270,  277, 

279,  285,  286,  365. 
Awatsu,  221. 

Bakit,  99. 
Baltimore,  51, 


Bamboo,  35,  136,  233,  346,  347. 

Banko  ware,  20g. 

Baths,   128,   169,  170,  173,  194, 

195,  203,  349. 
Battledore,  283. 
Bazaars,  131,  273.  335, 
Beauvais,  260. 
Behring  Strait,  2. 
Belgium,  344. 
Benkei,  217. 
Benten,  the  Goddess,  41,  42,  272. 

Dori,  13,  15. 

Berry,  Dr.  J.  C,  241. 
Bird,  Miss  Isabella,  146. 
Bishamon,  271. 

Biwa,  22. 

Lake,  179,  216-218,  235, 

331. 

Black  tea,  351,  352. 

Bleaching,  283. 

Bluff,  the,  Yokohama,  7,  il. 

Board  of  Trade,  331. 

Bon  Festival,  242,  361. 

Boston,  51,  328,  329. 

Botan,  77. 

Bridge,  the  Sacred  Red,  148, 160. 

Brocades,  63,  257-259. 

Bronze,  275,  276. 

Buddha,  38,  78,  148,  157,  222, 
230,  234,  235,  237,  238,  308, 
311,  312,  327,  342,  344,  345, 

359- 
Buddhism,  2r,  47,  135,  138,  230, 

236,  237,  239,  241,  310,  311, 

313.  32'.  322,  326.  327,  338, 

342,  366. 
Bund,  Hiogo,  341. 

Kobe,  341. 


377 


Index 


Bund,  Nagasaki,  366. 
— —  Yokohama,  3,  4,  8. 

Cables,  telegraphic,  23,  255,  357. 

Camels,  165,  352. 

Camphor,  52,  341. 

Canada,  351. 

Canadian  Pacific  Co.,  2. 

Canton,  261. 

Cape  King,  3. 

Caravan,  352. 

Carp,  78,  193,  286,  302,  303. 

Castle,  Kioto,  249. 

Nagoya,  206-208. 

Osaka,  331-334- 

Shidzuoka,  197. 

Tokio,  125. 

Catacombs,  272. 
Cats,  154,  284. 

Cemeteries,  158,  243,  244,  343, 

361. 
Ceylon,  240,  311. 
Cha  no  yu,  91, 113, 127,  132,  250, 

296,  297,  299,  369,  375. 
Chapel,  the  Imperial,  128. 
Charcoal,  170,  337. 
Chautauqua,  218. 
Chemnitz,  334. 

Cherry  blossoms,  69-74,  252,  253. 
Chicago,  331,  344. 
Chickens,  52,  285. 
Children,  4,  16,  54. 
China,  i,  20,  31,  47,  120,  250, 

272,  310,  327,  351,  352,   364, 

367.  371,  375- 
Chinatown,  20. 
Chinese,  20,  65,   113,  120,  135, 

238,  247,  248,  261,  272,  284, 

295,  322. 
Chioin  temple,  234,  235. 
Chirimen,  262-264. 
Chit,  26. 
Chit-book,  26. 
Chiuzenji,  165-167. 
Cholera,  254,  367,  368. 
Chopsticks,  88,  128,  214. 
Christianity,  240,  241,  363. 
Chrysanthemum,  29,  65,  81,  85, 

95.  260. 

Order  of  the,  112. 


Chrysanthemum,    War    of    the, 

250,  342. 
Citadel,  333. 
Climate,  22,  23,  362. 
Clipper  ships,  357. 
Coal,  361,  367,  368. 
Coins,  14,  328,  334. 
Co'umbus,  Christopher,  25. 
Compradores,  21,  355. 
Concession,  foreign,  342. 
Constitution,  the  new,  114,  371. 
Consuls,  46. 
Coolies,  8,  9,  205,  206,  253,  254, 

325,  356,  375- 
Court  circle,  131,  132. 

costume,    116,    119,    120, 

316. 
Crabs,  42. 
Crapes,  13,  261,  267. 

cotton,  13,  283. 

Creche,  357. 
Cremation,  343. 
Cross,  Buddhist,  272. 
Cryptomeria,  141,  309,  316, 
Cupid,  307. 

Dai  Butsu,  38,  234,  311-313. 

Daidokoro  Mon,  245. 

Daikoku,  137,  271,  273. 

Dai  Maru,  62. 

Daimios,  44,  141,  212,  272,  315. 

Daimonji,  242-244,  265,  361. 

Daitokuji,  296. 

Daiyagawa,  147,  148,  154,  174. 

Dancing,  90,  132,  154,  215,  252, 

315,  316,  319. 
Dango-zaka,  81,  82. 
Danjiro,  105,  109. 
Daruma,  223. 
Dasha,  211. 
Declaration    of    Independence, 

292. 

of  New  Constitution,  114. 

Deer,  307-310. 
Deshima,  364. 
Dialects,"  294. 
Divorce,  374. 
Dohachi,  228. 
Doshisha,  240,  241. 
Dotemachi  Gakko,  259.  . 


378 


Index 


Drama,  the,  96,  loo. 
Dramatic  literature,  99-101. 
Dresser,  Dr.  C,  96,  292, 
Dry-docks,  361,  367. 
Dutch,  the,  364,  366. 
Dyeing,  204,  205,  260,  261,  283, 
354- 

Earthquakes,  61. 
Ebisu,  264,  271. 
Echigoya,  62. 
Edinburgh,  Duke  of,  98. 
Education,    57,    240,    241,    371, 

373.  375- 
Eels,  95. 
El  Capitan,  333. 
Electric  lights,  23,  104,  126,  282. 
Embroideries,  267,  268. 
Emperor,  the.     See  Mutsu  Hito. 
Empress,  the.     See  Haruko. 

the  Dowager.   See  Asahiko. 

Enamel,  cloisonne,  209, 278, 285- 

291. 
Engei  Kyokai,  97. 
Enoshima,  38,  41,  42. 
Eta,  96,  159,  373. 
Etruscan,  272. 
Execution-ground,  342. 
Eyeball,  Buddha's,  327,  328. 

Face-powder,  12. 
Faience,  277. 
Fans,  281,  366. 
Farm-houses,  12. 
Feast  of  Dolls,  54. 

of  Lanterns,  243. 

Festival,  boys',  56. 

Fine  Arts  Club,  Tokio,  50. 

Fireflies,  188,  280,  320,  351. 

Fires,  59. 

Fish,  40,  42,  285.  366. 

Flash-light,  327,  341,  362. 

Fleas,  145. 

Fleur-de-lis,  77. 

Floods,  331,  332. 

Florists,  II,  49,  81. 

Flower  festivals,  65-86. 

Frescos,  327. 

Fruits,  22. 

Fuii-san,  the  Goddess,  176,  186. 


Fujiyama,  i,  3,  12,  34,  35,  41, 
49-51.  175-189,  191,  192,  195, 
196,  202. 

Fujiyeda,  199. 

Fujiwara,  123. 

Fukiage  gardens,  129. 

Fukurokojin,  271. 

Fukusa,  270-272. 

Funerals,  21,  139. 

Fushimi,  237,  307. 

Fusuma,  141. 

Futa-ara,  158. 

Futen,  158. 

Futon,  145,  173,  182. 

Gamman,  159. 
Gardening,  11. 
Garden-parties,   Imperial,    I15, 

1x6. 
Gate-keeper,  223. 
Gatling-guns,  206. 
Gautier,  Judith,  334. 
Geisha,  90,  213,  269,  284,  300, 

303...332,  337- 
"  Genji  Monogatari,"  221. 
Genoske,  loi,  no. 
Giantess,  284. 
Gilbert  and  Sullivan,  269. 
Ginkakuji,  249. 
Ginza,  43,  53. 
Gioksen,  280,  335. 
Gion  temple,  223-225,  301, 
Gobelins,  260. 

Go-Daigo,  the  Emperor.  342, 
Gods,  Seven  Household,  271. 
Gojo  bridge,  228. 
Gold  Ball  temple,  343. 
Golden  Koi,  95. 
Gold-thread,  260. 
Gompachi  and  Komurasaki,  134. 
Gosekke,  130. 
Gotemba,  176,  187. 
Grammar,  Japanese,  292. 
Grant,  General  U.  S.,  50,  129, 

363. 
Greek,  272. 
Green  tea,  351,  352. 
Griffis,  Rev.  W.  E.,  170,  292. 
Guides,  146. 
Guilds,  223,  264,  355. 
179 


Index 


Gunpowder  tea,  351. 
Gunsa,  211. 
Gwariobai,  6g. 

Hachi-ishi,  140,  147. 

Hachiman,  39,  41,  313. 

Hachioji,  255. 

Hair-pins,  16,  54. 

Hakodate,  22. 

Hakone,  35,  175,  176,  igl. 

Hama  Rikiu,  palace  of,  129. 

Hamamatsu,  201. 

Hamana,  lake  of,  201. 

Hana  michi,  104. 

Hangkow,  352. 

Hara  kiri,  106,  297. 

Hari  vShin,  345. 

Haru,  the  Crown  Prince,  124. 

Haruko,  the   Empress,  112-114, 

124,  299. 
Hayashi,  273. 
Hechima,  10. 

Heloise  and  Abelard,  134. 
Henri  Deux,  278. 
Hepburn,  Rev.  J.  C.,  294,  295. 
Hibachi,  87,  265. 
Hidetada,  49. 
Hideyoshi,  91,  234.  237,  283,  292, 

296,  297,  334. 
Higashi  Hongwanji,  236, 

Otani,  227, 

Hikone,  217, 

Hina  Matsuri,  54.     , 

Hiogo.     See  Kobe. 

Hira,  Mount,  221. 

Hirado,  294,  364,  365. 

Hirakana,  99,  295. 

Hiroshima,  359. 

Hiyakudo,  313. 

Hiyeizan,  Mount,  217,  218,  222, 

249.  345- 
Hizen,  210,  364. 
Hoishigaoka,  92. 
Hokkaido,  12. 
Hokorokojin,  192. 
Hokusai,  51,  271. 
Holidays,  53. 
Homura,  21. 
Honchodori,  13. 
Honmaru,  125. 


Honolulu,  2. 

Horiuji,  326-328. 

Hospitals,  114,  371. 

Hotel,  271. 

Hot     springs,    169,     170,     173, 

349- 
House-boats,  57,  58,  332,  338. 
Household  Gods,  271. 
Hyson,  351. 

Ice,  22,  280. 

Ichijo  Takada,  113,  130. 

Ichiriki,  222. 

Idzumi  ware,  335. 

Ihai,  128. 

Ikeda,  273. 

Ikegami,  77,  135,  136. 

Ikeshima,  360. 

Imaichi,  143. 

Imari,  210,  364,  365. 

Incense,  274, 

India,  272. 

Ink,  321. 

Inland   Sea,  42,  330,  340-342, 

358,  359- 
Insects,  140,  145,  284,  324. 
Iris,  77. 
Irkutsk,  352. 
Ise,  208,  352. 
Isezakicho,  15. 
Ishiyama,  218. 
Ito,  Count,  120,  130. 

Countess,  121. 

lyekando,  235. 
lyemitsu,  39,  149,  153. 
lyeyasu,    39,   49,  149,  150,  157, 

207,  292. 
Iwakura,  130, 

Jacquard,  257, 

Japan  Stream,  3. 

"Japanese  Homes,"  by  Prof.  E. 

S.  Morse,  292. 
Jimmu  Tenno,  HI. 
Jingo  Kogo,  281. 
Jinrikisha,  8,  9,  205,  338. 
Jiutei,  332. 
Jo-o,  299. 
Josho,  255,  257. 
Jugglers,  19,  137,  226. 


380 


Index 


Junks,  197,  341,  345,  353,  359. 

361,  362. 
Jurojin,  271. 

Kabe  habutai,  2x6,  26z 

Kaburenjo,  300. 

Kaga,  131,  210,  279. 

Kagami,  276. 

Kago,  162,  189. 

Kagoshima,  29,  364. 

Kairos,  336,  337, 

Kake.  22. 

Kamakura,  38-40. 

Kame,  339. 

Kameido,  47,  69,  77,  78. 

Kamnosube-no-Kami,  230. 

Kamogawa.  223,  283. 

Kanagawa,  4,  7,  8,  15,  28. 

Kanaya,  199,  200. 

Kanda,  47. 

Kanoko  chirimen,  263 

Kanozan,  36. 

Kanzan,  228. 

Kappa,  141. 

Karasaki,  218. 

Kasuga,  309,  314-316,  319. 

Kasukabe,  78. 

Katakana,  295. 

Katase,  41. 

Katsura  no  Miya,  251. 

Kawawa,  29,  30. 

Keemung,  352. 

Kegon-no-taki,  174. 

Keiki,  131,  197. 

Kekko,  147. 

Kencho,  46,  296 

Kerosene,  182, 192,  282,  341,  350. 

Kesa,  138,  269. 

Keyaki,  200,  208,  236. 

Kii.  340. 

Kiku.     See  Chrysanthemum. 

Kimigayo,  1 16. 

Kinkakuji,  249,  250. 

Kinkozan,  277,  278. 

Kiomidera,  I96,  277. 

Kiomidzu,  228. 

Kioto,  8,  46,  61,  111-113,  125, 

130,  189,  216,  221,  223-304, 

312,  346,  365. 
Kindan-nuitsuke,  267. 


Kinu  chirimen,  263. 

Kites,  283. 

Kiukioda,  273. 

Kiushiu,  125,  333. 

Kobayashi,  259. 

Kobe,  46,  249,  281,  331,  340-349. 

352,  365. 
Kobo  Daishi,  148,  1 59,  200. 
Kobukuji,  322. 
Kodzu,  175,  189. 
Kofu,  255. 

Komatsu,  Prince,  129. 
Komei,  the  Emperor,  299. 
Komurasaki  and  Gompachi,  134. 
Konoye,  130. 
Korea,  i,  120,  159,  223,  234,  295, 

310,  364, 
Kori,  140. 

Koro,  153,  277,  295. 
Kotaiji,  227. 
Koto,  22,  113,  332. 
Koyokwan,  87,  99,  124. 
Kudan,  47. 

Kuge,  113,  130,  245,  249,  250. 
Kujo,  130. 
Kuki,  R.,  312. 
Kune  no  Miya,  Prince,  290. 
Kuni  Asahiko,  Prince,  128. 
Kurodani,  235. 

Kusunoki  Masashige,  312,  342. 
Kutani,  2lo. 

Kwangioba  no  Shokoba,  257. 
Kwannon,  52,  202,  203,  229,  230, 

241,  268,  313,  344. 

Lacquer,  48,  49,  150.  273,  274. 
Landscape-gardening,  11,  39, 129, 

133.  134.  250-252,  286,  345. 
Language,  the  Japanese,  24,  292- 

2^. 
Lanterns,  57,  224,  243,  282. 
Lava.  176,  181.  182. 
Lead,  353. 
Leather,  336. 
Leeks,  Mrs.,  2. 
Legations,  46,  148. 
Light-houses,  3,  341,  371. 
Limoges,  278. 
London,  279. 
Loquat,  32. 


3»« 


Index 


Lotus,  45,  78.  233,  342. 
Lowell,  Percival,  292. 
Luck  emblems,  179,  272. 
Luck,  gods  of,  271. 

Maeda,  Marquis,  131. 

Maiko,  90,  213,  284,  300-304, 

332,  337- 
Mandalla,  268. 
Manji,  272. 
Manjiuji,  273. 
Marco  Polo,  251. 
Marriage,  113,  374. 
Maruyama,  222,  223,  243,  253, 

273,  286. 
Masamune,  275. 
Masonry,  334. 
Matsuda,  92,  296. 
Matsuri,   21,   53,   165,  197,   211, 

224,  229,  242,  342,  361. 
Mecca,  326. 
Meguro,  134,  135. 
Meiji,  the  era  of,  112. 
Metal-work,  275,  276,  335. 
Miajima,  359. 
Miakodori,  300. 
Midway  Island,  2. 
Midzu  ame,  37,  200. 
Miidera,  217. 
Mikado,  112. 
Mikasayama,  313,  323. 
Military,  the,  45,  133. 
Mimizuka,  234. 
Minamoto,  292. 
Minatogawa,  341,  342. 
Mine,  35,  36. 
Mint,  14,  334. 
Miochin,  275. 
Mirror,  magic,  276. 
Mishima,  192-195. 
Missals,  272. 
Missionaries,  11,  25,  46,  218,  240, 

241,  367. 
Mississippi  Bay,  12,  15,  31,  135, 

373- 
Mitford,  A.  B.,  292. 
Mito  yashiki,  133. 
Mitsu  Bishi  Company,  367. 
Mitsuya,  192. 
Mitsu  tomoye,  272,  273. 


382 


Miyanoshita,  175,  176,  187,  188, 

191. 
Miyashta,  147,  214. 
Moats,  44,  197,  207,  333. 
Momban,  223. 
Mome,  257. 
Monasteries,  227,  234,  250,  326, 

340. 
Montana,  346. 
Monsoon,  23. 
Monto  sect,  23&-240. 
Moon  temple,  343. 
Mori,  130. 

Morse,  Prof.  E.  S.,  135,  292. 
Motomachi,  342. 
Mound  builders,  147. 
Moxa,  35,  36,  257. 
Mukojima,  70,  71,  74. 
Mulberry,  134,  202. 
Murata  Shinkio,  250. 
Muramasa,  275. 
"  Murray's  Guide-book,"  292. 
Murusaki  Shikibu,  221. 
Musanokoji,  92. 
Museums,  47,  312. 
Mutsu  Hito,  the   Emperor,  11 1, 

112,  241,  299. 

Nabeshima,  105,  153,  302,  364, 

365. 
Nagahama,  216. 
Nagasaki,  i,  360-368. 
Nagoya,  204,  206-216. 
Nakadori,  64. 
Nakamura,  283. 
Nakasendo,  146. 
Nakayama  Yashiki,  124. 
Nammikawa,  285-291. 
Nanjenji,  235. 
Nanko  temple,  342. 
Nantaisan,  48,  166-168,  174. 
Napoleon,  334. 
Nara,  268,   282,  304,  307-327, 

338,  345- 
Navajo,  186. 
Negishi,  30. 
Nesan,  32,  87,  88,  140,  141,  167, 

188,  301,  325,  375. 
Newspapers,  23,  no,  133. 
New-years,  20,32,65,66, 272,282. 


Index 


New  York,  279,  281,  357. 

Nichiren,  135,  138. 

Nigwatsudo,  313. 

Nihombashi,  43. 

Nijo,  125,  130,  249. 

Nikko,    38,   48,    140,    147,    191, 

308. 
Nil,  steamer,  208. 
Ningchow,  352. 
Ningio,  Nara,  314. 
Nirvana,  131,  239,  31 1. 
Nishi  Hongwanji,  237-239,  338. 

Otani,  233,  301. 

Nishijin,  255,  257. 

Nishimura,  268. 

Niyakuoji,  235. 

Nobori,  56. 

No  Dance.  96-98,  131,  269. 

Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  358. 

Numerals,  294. 

Nunobiki,  343. 

Nuns,  321,  322,  329,  367. 

Nyubai,  23. 

Obi,  63,  90,  119,  214,  283,  303. 

Octroi,  223. 

Odawara  Bay,  35,  41,  175. 

Odessa,  352. 

Ogawa,  327. 

Ogi,  281. 

Oigawa,  252. 

Oikoto,  214. 

Oji,  134- 

Okabe,  199. 

Okuma,  Count  and  Countess,  134. 

Omaha,  U.S.S.,  360, 

Omori,  135,  136. 

Oneida,  U.S.S.,  139. 

Oolong  tea,  351. 

Osaka,   14,   112,  237,  266,  275, 

281,  303,  313,  326,  329-340. 
Oshima,  36. 
Oshiukaido,  78. 
O  Suwo,  215,  363. 
O  Tomi  Toge  pass,  176,  187. 
Otsu,  217,  218,  221. 
Owari,  207-2 lO,  302. 
Oxen,  346. 
Oyama,  35. 
Ozen,  87. 


3SJ 


Pacific   Mail  Steamship  Com- 
pany, 2,  358. 
Pacific  Ocean,  i. 
Pack-horse,  165,  188,  191. 
Pagoda,  49,  149,  227,  228,  322, 

338,  339- 
Palaces,  125-130,  244-253,  288. 

312,  334. 
Paper,  134,  277. 
Pappenberg,  island  of;  363. 
Paris.  268,  288. 
Parliament,  371. 
Passports,  46. 
Patents,  352. 
Paterson,  N.  J.,  256. 
Peerage,  130. 
Peking,  266,  352. 
Peony,  77. 
Perfumes,  274. 
Perry,  Commodore  Matthew  Cal- 

braith,  12,  23.  32,  37,  131,  363, 

368,  369,  373,  375. 
Persimmon,  22,  136. 
Photograph,  196,  216,  285,  327. 
Picul,  257. 
Pike's  Peak,  i8r. 
Pilgrims,  148,  166,  167,  176,  178, 

182,  229,  230,  308,  310,  319, 

338. 
Plum  blossoms,  31,  66,  67. 
Poems,  33,  47,  69,  299. 
Policeman,  211. 
Pongee,  264. 

Porcelain,  208,  209,  228,  364,  365. 
Portuguese,  303,  363. 
Pottery,  209,  277-279,  364,  365. 
Press,  the,  133. 
Priestesses,   154,  308,  316,  319, 

321. 
Priests,  21,  49,  135, 138, 139,  154. 

230,  237.  238,  310,  315,  319. 
Princes,  130. 
Pyramids,  the,  272. 

Race-course,  12,  35,  47,  5a 
Raiden,  158,  212. 
Raiha,  304. 

Railroads,  140,  189,  202,  371. 
Rains,  23.  62,  182,  iS8,  198,  199^ 
292,  331,  332. 


Index 


Raku,  299. 

Rape-seed,  203. 

Rats,  272,  324,  325. 

Red  Plain,  the,  168. 

Rein,  J.  J.,  292. 

Resist,  265. 

Restoration,  the,  24,  50,  133,  150, 

247.  331,  363.  366. 
Rice,  12,  238,  251,  294,  325,  326, 

330,  332. 
Richardson  affair,  28,  360. 
Rikiu,  296,  297,  299. 
Riobondo,  274. 
Rip  Van  Winkle,  29. 
Rising  Sun,  Order  of  the,  113. 
River-bed,  Kioto,  225,  244. 
River  fete,  Tokio,  57. 
Rokumeikwan,  86,  131. 
Romaicising,  295, 
"  Ronins,     Forty- seven,"    100, 

102,  III,  222,  338. 
Rose-jar,  the,  209. 
Rugs,  266,  336. 

Sagami,  3. 

Saigo,  General,  135. 

Saikio,  221,  245. 

Sake,  74,  128,  303,  330, 

Sakura,  69. 

Samisen,   22,   73,    74,    89,    215, 

223,  303,  332. 
Sampan,  4. 
Samurai,  24,  44,  251,  341.  342, 

373- 
Sandals,  9. 

San  Francisco,  2,  3,  358. 
Sanjiro,  48-50. 
Sanjiusangendo,  234. 
Sanjo,  Prince,  73,  130. 

bridge,  225,  284. 

Satsuma,  28,  131,  271,  277,  279, 

335,  364.  365. 
Scandinavia,  272. 
Schleyer,  296. 
Schools,  57,  199,  243,  375. 
Screens,  141,  279,  280,  327,  329. 
Sea-weed,  40,  136. 
Segaki,  139. 
Segiyama,  22. 
Semi,  54, 


Sengakuji,  135. 

Senke,  92,  296—300. 

Sermon  on  the  Mount,  the,  239. 

Servants,  23,  24. 

Seta  Bridge,  221. 

Seto,  208. 

Shaku,  261. 

Shakudo,  276. 

Shampooer,  174. 

Shiba,  47,  48,  78,  87. 

Shibuichi,  276. 

Shichi  Fukujin,  271. 

Shidzuoka,  131,  197,  198. 

Shijo  bridge,  224,  225,  283,  284. 

Shimadzu,  130,  131. 

Shimonoseki,  7,  359,  360. 

Shinagawa,  135,  369. 

Shinkaku,  251. 

Shinkoji,  342. 

Shinniodo,  235,  254. 

Shinto,  119,  128,  150,  225,  241, 
308-310,  313-316,  342. 

miza,  102,  no. 

Shippo,  272. 

Shirane  san,  168. 

Shiro,  125. 

Shishigatami,  235. 

Shiurokindo,  204. 

Shogun,  the,  44,  45,  49,  96,  in, 
112,  125,  129,  130,  131,  148- 
150,  158,  192,  196,  197,  207, 
221,  228,  245,  247,  249,   250, 

259.  297,  331.  338.  365- 
Shoji,  141. 

Shojo,  212,  213,  272. 
Shotoku,  Taisho,  327. 
Shroff,  15. 
Shugakuin,  249. 
Siberia,  352,  361. 
Silk,  255-271. 

broker,  255. 

markets,  255,  266. 

rav*r,  256,  257,  350. 

worms,  198,  256. 

shops,  13,  63,  257,  258,  268, 

.335- 
Singapore,  26. 
Soami,  250. 

Social  life,  25,  26,  131-133. 
Sodanje,  no. 


384 


Index 


Soroban,  14,  15. 

Sosen,  51. 

Soshi,  244. 

"  Soul  of  the  Far  East,"  by  Per- 

cival  Lowell,  292. 
Spaniels,  285. 
Spectacle  Bridge,  231. 
Sponge-cake,  29,  303,  338, 
Staffordshire,  208. 
Stage,  the,  104,  105. 
Subashiri,  176,  187. 
Sudare,  280. 
Suehiro,  282. 
Suez,  I,  357. 
Sugita,  31,  32. 
Sumidagawa,  57. 
Susan,  black-eyed,  28. 
Suzume,  97,  201,  316. 
Swords,  275,  314,  329. 
Symbols,  271,  272. 

Tabako  bon,  87. 

Tabi,  9,  301. 

Tacoma,  358. 

Tai,  301. 

Taiko,  the,  91,   251,   296,   297, 

334- 
Tairo,  292. 
Taizan,  277. 
Tajima,  345. 
Takada,  273. 
Takara  Bune,  272. 

mono,  272. 

Takashima,  367. 

Takatsukasa,  130. 

"  Tales  of  Old  Japan,"  by  A.  B. 

Mitford,  292. 
Talisman,  272. 
Tan,  261. 
Tanzan,  277, 
Tapestry,  259. 
Taro  of   Urashima,  29. 
Tateba,  31,  165. 
Tateno,  Governor,  19. 
Tatsu,  24.  301. 
Tattoo,  354. 
Tayema,  268. 
Tea,  63,  91,   94,  95,   190,   199, 

200,  286,  287,  300,  307,  320, 

340.  350-358. 


3»5 


Tea-houses,  96,   102,   140,   142, 

144,  145,  167,  173,  177,  187, 

192,  :93,  204,  222,  323-325, 

332,  346. 

tasters,  353,  354. 

tremens,  300. 

Teakwood,  335. 

Teapot  Hill,  228,  229. 

Telegraphs,  23,  371. 

Temple    services,    21,   135,  138, 

139,  154,  230,  237,  238,  315, 

319,  327,  328,  339. 
Tenabe  Gengoro,  22. 
Tennoji,  338-340. 
Theatre,  15,  96-1 11,  224,  283- 

285,  337- 
Theine,  351. 
Theosophy,  241. 
Thor,  272. 
Throne,  126,  247. 
Tokaido,  7,  12,  28,  175,  189-206, 

277. 
Tokio,   43-135.   237,   244,    268, 

275,  291,  294,  300,  327.  334. 

365. 
Tokugawa,  56,  96,  III,  125,  131, 

150,  197,  249. 
Tombs,  49,  157,  244,  328,  343. 
Tooth-brushes,  167,  203. 
Torii,  34,  149. 
Tosa  chickens,  52,  285. 
Totomi,  200. 
Tourists,  28. 
Toyohashi,  203. 
Trade,    foreign,    256,   340,  350, 

357- 
Treaties,  120,  373. 
Trieste,  336. 
Tungchow,  353. 
Turtle,  271,  339. 
Tussores,  264. 
Typhoon,  7,  331,  34a 

UcHiwA,  281, 

Uii.  286,  296,  304. 

Ukata,  204,  205. 

Umagayeshi,  177-179,  187. 

Ume  Vashiki,  69. 

Unitarian,  241. 

University,  the  Imperial,  57,  131. 


Index 


Uraga,  37. 

"  Usurper,  the,"  by  Judith  Gau- 

tier,  334. 
Utsonomiya,  140,  141. 

pass,  198. 

Uyeno,  47,  50,  51,  70,  78, 

Vancouver,  3. 
Vanity  Fair,  52,  284. 
Vassar  College,  132. 
Velvet,  261. 

"Venice  of  Japan,"  the,  331. 
Vienna,  208,  336. 
Volapuk,  296. 
Volcanic  eruptions,  179. 
Votive    offerings,  137,  158,  166, 
229,  329,  338. 

Wages,  23,  146,  205,  206,  256, 

355. 
Wakamiya,  316. 
"Walters,  Mr.  W.  T.,  51, 
Waraji,  9. 
Waseda,  134. 
William  Tell,  197. 
William  the  Conqueror,  292. 
Wistaria,  77,  309. 
Women's  dress,  16,  63,  90,  119, 

123,  214,  283,  303. 
Wrestlers,  337. 


Xavier,  St.  Francis,  363. 

Yaami,  221,  222,  227,  292. 

Yabashi,  221, 

Yabunouchi,  92. 

Yamamai,  263,  264. 

Yamanaka,  192. 

Yamashiro,  340. 

Yamato,  268,  313. 

Yanigawara,  64. 

Yasaka  pagoda,  227,  228. 

Yashiki,  44,  97,  245. 

Yeddo  Bay,  3,  8,  35,  36, 

Yellowstone,  the,  346. 

Yesso  nishikis,  64,  259. 

Yodogawa,  331. 

Yokkaichi,  208,  209. 

Yokohama,  2-4,  7,  36,  208,  281, 

294,  340,  352,  353.  365. 
Yokosuka,  3,  36. 
Yoritomo,  39. 
Yoshida,  235. 
Yoshimasa,  250. 
Yoshiwara  plain,  195. 
Yumoto,     162,     167-170,     175 

174. 
Yuoki,  160. 

ZiPANGU,  251. 

Zukin,  16. 


THE  END 


By  a.  H.  savage  LANBOR 


IN  THE  FORBIDDEN"  LAND.  An  Account  of  a 
Journey  into  Tibet,  Capture  by  the  Tibetan  Lamas  and 
Soldiers,  Imprisonment,  Torture,  and  Ultimate  Release, 
brought  about  by  Dr.  Wilson  and  the  Political  Peslikar 
Karak  Sing-Pal.  With  the  Government  Enquiry  and 
Report  and  other  Official  Documents,  by  J.  Larkin, 
Esq.,  Deputed  by  the  Government  of  India.  With 
One  Photogravure,  Eight  Colored  Plates,  Fifty  Full- 
page  and  about  One  Hundred  and  Fifty  Text  Illustra- 
tions, and  a  Map  from  Surveys  by  the  Author.  2  Vols. 
8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt  Tops, 
$9  00. 

A  very  remarkable  work  from  whatever  point  of  view  it  maybe 
read,  and  one  which  will  insure  its  author  a  distinct  and  prominent 
place  amons?  European  travellers  of  the  nineteenth  century. — i^.  Y. 
Mail  and  Express. 

It  is  a  book  easy  to  read  and  hard  to  put  down,  for  the  scene  is 
constantly  changing,  the  action  is  full  of  surprises,  and  the  de- 
scriptions of  scenery  enhance  the  significance  of  the  occurrences  de- 
scribed.— Mic  York  Tribune. 

Tibet,  the  forbidden  land,  is  not  familiar  ground,  and  an  ob- 
server as  competent  as  Mr.  Landor  has  much  to  tell  quite  apart 
from  his  thrilling  personal  experiences.  He  writes  well,  and  his 
photographs  and  drawings  give  excellent  views  of  some  of  the 
grandest  scenery  in  the  world  and  some  of  the  most  picturesque 
things  and  people.  He  tells  a  plain  manly  tale,  without  affectation 
or  bravado,  and  it  is  a  book  that  will  be  read  with  interest  and  ex- 
citement, even  in  those  parts  of  it  which  only  describe  a  journey 
through  an  unknown  region. — London  Times. 


HARPER   &    BROTHERS,  Publishbes 

NEVr    YORK    AND   LONDON 

The  above  work  will  ie  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any 
part  of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or  Mexico,  on  receipt  of  the  price 


DS 

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